Maybe Another Lifetime
by Reia
Summary: Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left? Ch. 8 up! Mar 17 2011 SxF May revise all chapters in the future...
1. Prologue, Ch 1 and 2

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
  
  
by Reia     
  
  
rawr@lealea.net  
http://xox.lealea.net/  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop.  Not.  Mine.  Don't. Sue.  Thanks.  
  
A/N: Yes, it's set after Ep. 26.  Yes, it's Faye/Spike.  Yes, yes, yes.  But hopefully, I've made this an interesting, character-driven story chock full of what you love best about CB, and hopefully, I've also portrayed it in an interesting and _original_ manner.  You decide.  Please give me reviews!  Thanks!  
  
Summary:  Sex, violence, and drama.  Old flames, old friends... it all comes together.  Cats have nine lives.  How many more left?  
  
  
***  
  
Prologue - Out of Sight, Out of Mind**  
  
  
  
Try as she might, Faye couldn't stop herself from shaking.  It was ridiculous, really.  Her entire body was humming -- half from the aftermath, and half from what she could only describe as rising hysteria.  
  
God.  What had she done?  
  
What had she _done?_  
  
She noticed he hadn't said a word either.  A few seconds earlier, he'd sat up to reach for his damn smokes, and now the bastard was just... just sitting there, his back against the headboards with smoke swirling around his head like a foggy veil.  That bastard... that unfeeling son of a bitch!  
  
She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms until it hurt.  She had to get out.  She had to get out of here.  
  
What had she done?  
  
_What had she done?_  
  
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up, cheering herself for how calmly the movement came out to be.  He continued to smoke.  She walked away, without looking back, and headed towards the bathroom.  She closed the door and locked it with a resounding click.  
  
For a few moments, she didn't move.  She laid her head against the doorframe and stood there, trying to get her bearings and her breathing back to normal.  She counted to a hundred slowly in her head.  She was well aware of the silence inside the room, except for the inhaling and exhaling of the cigarette smoke from the other side of the door.  In... and out... just like nothing had happened.  
  
Out of sheer force of will, she forced her legs to reach the bathtub.  With shaky hands she turned the shower on, wincing as cold water pierced her tender skin.  Damn, she was gonna have bruises the next day... She blinked as she realized with horror that tears had gathered in her eyes.  Shit.  No.  Not now.  Not _now_!  She quickly turned the water on to a higher setting, uncaring that the force was harsh but relishing the noise.  Anything but this awful silence.  
  
And within the thunderous onslaught of the water, he couldn't possibly hear her crying.  
  
  
  
**Chapter One -  Buy Low, Sell High**  
  
  
  
Three weeks passed since Spike had appeared from the blue and scaring Jet shitless.  At first, Jet had thought he was hallucinating.  Spike had looked exactly the same way before he'd disappeared for that showdown with Vicious, with nary a scratch.  Then, he'd become angry and suspicious.  Perhaps the man had been simply an evil doppelganger sent in by one of a string of people wanting revenge from the Bebop crew.  When Faye burst in the scene, the situation had gone from bad to worse.  She'd screamed like a psychotic banshee and Jet had seriously thought she was going to collapse.  
  
"What the _fuck_?"  had been the first graceful words to escape the bounty huntress's mouth.  
  
"Holy shit, woman, keep your panties on," Spike had snarled. "It really is me.  What the hell do I need to do to prove it?"  
  
Faye's response had been to grab her gun from her holster to point it straight at him.  "Start thinking.  You have five seconds to prove yourself.  Five...four..."  
  
Jet's gaze had ping-ponged back and forth during the exchange.  Maybe there was a minute possibility that this _was_ Spike.  "Faye, just wait a minute--"  
  
"This is ridiculous," Spike had sighed. "Put the gun down, Faye."  
  
"Three... two..."  
  
"Faye!" Jet had exclaimed.  
  
The next few moments happened so fast, Jet wasn't sure exactly how they had transpired.  A shot had been fired, but the man who claimed to be Spike was still standing.  However, Faye's face had paled even further, and soon, she'd dropped down on her knees.  Jet's heart had leapt to his throat, quite certain that Faye had been wounded.  But as he'd rushed towards her, he noticed no blood.  Faye's gaze had remained solidly to the floor, wide and unblinking.  Faye's arm had still remained outstretched.  Jet had followed his gaze and realized that her gun was missing from her grip.  Looking up, Jet had been startled to notice Spike pointing his gun towards Faye's still figure.  Jet had continued staring at him with shock as Spike replaced his gun on his holster, calmly walked over to somewhere behind them and retrieved Faye's gun.  He walked past them again, plopped the gun on a nearby box and continued his way towards the kitchen.  
  
"Hallelujah!  Do I smell beef tacos?" Spike had called from the kitchen.  
  
And that had been that.    
  
The weeks that followed were similar to the first day he'd come in.  Tension hung damply in the air, but everyone went about their daily business as if a year hadn't passed since they last saw Spike and thought him dead.  Sometimes, Faye would have her strange "freak out" moments and Spike didn't seem to be... all there.  But all in all, it was back to business on the Bebop.  No one spoke about the past.  The scant moments Faye would _demand_ to know, and Jet privately ask Spike where the hell he'd been, Spike would clam up and Jet could almost physically feel a barrier erect.  
  
In any case, they didn't have time for that.  The reason Spike returned, as he'd explained that first day, was because of a bounty.  Jet wasn't at all surprised.  Spike mentioned he would have gone about it himself, if the bounty hadn't been so complicated and so large.  Jet wondered if Spike would ever have returned or said anything if the bounty hadn't existed...  
  
"Mr. X," Spike had explained. "That's what they called him.  No one knows how he looks like, how old he is, where he was last seen.  But apparently he's the ringleader in a secret high-end escort service, under the guise of a gentleman's club."  
  
"How much?" Faye had asked.  
  
Spike had ignored her and continued, "The club's in Venus, under the New Vegas strip.  It's called The Garden of Eden, or just simply, The Garden."  
  
"How much?" Faye had repeated.  Spike had flashed her a look of irritation.  
  
"300 million woolong."  
  
"Shit," Jet had whistled and noticed Faye shifting her weight.  Over the year, under Jet's constant influence and after what had happened to Spike, Faye had become a more careful bounty hunter, weighing odds and thinking ahead of herself.  Faye had said nothing, and had rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  
  
"Something's not right," Faye had countered, puncturing her sentence with a tap on her cheek. "300 million?  For what, a no-name high class _pimp_ from a glorified brothel?"  
  
"Faye's got a point," Jet had agreed.  For 300 million woolong, the man must be tied with mass murder, government conspiracy, or irreparable destruction.  Or all three.  The last man they heard to have such a high price had been Vincent with the virus fiasco -- which, Jet remembered, he even considered was out of his depth.  It had made him feel nervous.  
  
"Does it really matter?" Spike had returned, relaxing against the couch as if it was the old days again. "We find the guy and get 300 million.  Who cares what else he's into."  
  
"For 300 million woolong, I care!" Faye shot back. "This is funny, I never heard of such a bounty.  It wasn't even on Big Shot!"  
  
Jet had to agree and glared at the relaxed bounty hunter, sternly. "Right.  A 'Mr.X' with no stats and a freaking bounty practically worth the entire New Vegas strip and it wasn't even featured on Big Shot.  It doesn't add up."  
  
"That show doesn't know _every_ huge bounty head.  Doesn't matter where I heard it, as long as it actually exists.  That's where you guys come in," Spike had explained, the first note of impatience entering his tone. "We figure out who this guy is, when and where he'll be next at.  Then I'll bring him in."  
  
He was already heading for the couch.  He sat on it like he'd never left the place.  
  
Faye had coughed at Spike's last comment. "Excuse me.  _You_ bring him in?  So, what, we're just your fucking info rats?  No, thanks!"  
  
Spike's response to that was to roll over on the couch and turn his back towards them. "God, Jet, why didn't you kick this wench out at your first chance a long time ago?  I'm going to sleep."  
  
Faye had become enraged at that point and looked ready to pummel Spike to his _real_ death but Jet had decided to let it slide for a while.  "Let him go, Faye.  We'll get more answers later."  
  
And three weeks later, where they were presently, Jet wondered when they were gonna get said answers.  At least, answers about Spike's goings-ons the past year, why he'd never contacted them to tell them he'd been alive all along, why... There were too many questions.  Fortunately, the question of Mr. X had been at least partially solved.  It only took three weeks of searching, hard detective work, a lot of manipulating and some lucky guesses.  At first, Jet wasn't sure if Mr. X even existed and who was financing the secret bounty -- Spike assured them Mr. X existed and that he knew who was financing the bounty and they didn't need to know.  Jet didn't push any more, knowing how stubborn Spike could be.    
  
Jet wasn't sure if any of them had ever worked so long on just _one_ bounty.  But it would be all worth it.  Tonight, the Bebop crew was going to bag the mysterious Mr. X.  
  
Jet stared at the long-lost bounty hunter and the shrew fixing up his tie, and sighed, hoping against hope that no one screwed up tonight.  
  
  
***  
  
Faye was nervous for more than one reason that night.  One, this could possibly be their only shot at Mr. X.  Two, it took them three weeks to get to this point.  Three, they couldn't find any more information about Mr. X beyond the Gentleman's Club, so they still don't know what the man was _really_ being hooked for.    
  
And Four, Spike.  
  
Spike, who was glaring down at her, impatient for her to finish fiddling with his tie.  Faye dropped her hands suddenly, and stepped back, forcing herself to calm down.  She regarded the lanky bounty hunter, but try as she might, she couldn't stop her pulse from increasing.  Damn, but he did look gorgeous.  Head to toe in a swanky suit ensemble, he looked devastating.  In direct contrast, his hair was still in a wild disarray.  
  
"God's sake.  Do I have to do _everything_ for you?" Faye huffed, rubbing her palms together and reaching towards the tangle he called "hair."  
  
"You're not touching my hair," he warned, taking a step back.  "How would you like it if I messed up your 'do?"  And to emphasize his point, he reached a dangerous hand towards her well-done coif.  
  
Faye swatted his arm away and glared, hopefully looking like she was really angry at him.  Inside, she thought how silly they both were being about the entire thing.  "Don't even joke.  The difference between my hair and yours is like the difference between a beautiful Persian rug and a trampled on shag carpet."  
  
"Oi!  You two!"  Jet called from the side. "We're leaving in five minutes.  Think both of you can sit still until then?  Faye, forget the hair.  It's a lost cause."  As he shuffled towards his room, Faye could hear him mutter under his breath, "Children."  
  
Faye stuck her tongue out at Jet's retreating back in an old childish impulse she couldn't help but release when Jet was around.  He was so serious and all-knowing all the time that it just seemed natural for Faye to rebel against it.  All of a sudden, a prickly sensation tickled Faye's skin -- the way it always reacted whenever she felt someone's eyes on her.  She suppressed a shudder.  And she knew exactly who was staring at her.  She just had to pretend it didn't affect her in the least.  
  
"Seriously, Spike," Faye began, proud at how natural she sounded. "You can't show up in The Garden with your hair like that."  Boldly, she turned and stared right back into his eyes.  He had to know she wasn't a weakling -- that she wasn't prey to his false charms.  His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the same way it did that night -- _Stop it, Faye!_ she scolded herself.  Forget that night.  
  
_Forget it_.  
  
"Faye."  His voice was quiet, low enough for only her ears to hear.  Faye would have killed him with her bare hands, if the urge to kiss him wasn't as strong.  
  
"We don't have to slather on a lot of hair gook, either," Faye said brightly, abruptly making her way towards the bathroom. "Just a little, all right?  Humour me, here."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Whispered words never held so much weight.  Faye's steps faltered but she continued to walk towards the bathroom.    
  
"Sorry about what?"  A tinge of anger she couldn't control entered her tone, but she pasted the smile on her face as if nothing had occurred.  It had been one week.  One week of pure torture, of silences, of nonchalance, of her world falling apart.  And it took one week for the bastard to say anything regarding... what had happened.  And, just like Spike, he took the most important night of their careers up to this point to spring it on her.  
  
She briskly walked back towards Spike, whose eyes were no longer playful.  They were serious and piercing.  She didn't care, she told herself.  She dipped her hands in the pomade and rubbed her palms together.  She proceeded to fluff his hair to a more manageable style with her fingers.  She knew he was still staring at her, their bodies almost touching... Faye's hands started to tremble, their proximity finally taking its toll.  She jumped back, as if burnt.  
  
"Faye."  This time, his voice was cooler, more detached. "We need to talk about it."  
  
"What's to talk about, Spike?" Her voice was a hushed hiss.  What would make the night more perfect would be if Jet knew what had occurred.  She simply didn't want to talk about it, but Spike grasped her shoulder to make sure she was listening.  
  
"No regrets," he said simply.  Faye's emerald greens meshed with his chocolate browns.  "All right?  I have no regrets."  
  
_I bet you don't_, Faye thought bitterly.  He got what he wanted.  Hell, she got what _she_ wanted.  Who had regrets?  They were adults.  Comrades, even.  That night, they both knew what they were doing.  
  
Exorcising spirits.  
  
"It's never going to happen ever again," Faye said curtly, jerking away from his grasp.  Spike's demeanor, if possible, got even more cool.  
  
"That goes without saying," Spike returned, without changing the inflection in his tone.  
  
"It'd been a while, you know," Faye went on, trying to feign the same nonchalance Spike had on his face, trying to regain her last remnants of self-respect.  She envied his control.  Or maybe there wasn't anything to control.  He just didn't feel anything for her at all. "It was nothing.  Women have needs, too.  Case closed.  Let's not make this weird, okay?"  
  
"Of course," Spike nodded.  All at once, he was business again.  Faye hated him. "So, when we get to The Garden, you know exactly where to go.  I'll call you over, and you do your big grand entrance."  
  
"I know the plan, Spike.  We went through it a million times already," Faye said.  A loud movement on the side caught Faye's attention, and she saw Jet emerge from his room, looking elegantly dashing in his own way.  Boy, they sure knew how to steal the right clothes.  
  
"Wow.  Jet actually looks like a human being tonight!" Faye proceeded to waggle her brows comically.  
  
"I feel like a penguin," Jet sighed.  As he came closer, Spike patted Jet's non-existent beer belly.  
  
"You're already halfway to looking like one, my friend," Spike smirked.  Jet glared at him.  Faye wondered when Spike and her Oscars were coming in the mail.  They had pretty much mastered the art of switching emotions at the drop of a hat.  
  
"I think we should go over the plan just _one more time_," Jet told them. "Just to be sure."  
  
"All right, all right, fine."  Faye threw her hands up in the air. "Let's just rehash the entire scheme for the 'nth' time."  
  
Faye was bored the entire time Jet went through the motions once again.  Yes, yes.  Spike and Jet would enter The Garden first.  Spike was acting as her would-be pimp -- oh, sorry, _agent_ -- and Jet would be a new patron to The Garden.  Faye was supposed to enter five minutes after, hovering around and chatting up with some random men, working the ol' Faye Valentine magic.  Blah blah blah...  Both Faye and Jet were to gather information about Mr. X and his whereabouts.  Spike was to gather a small group of men, after securing a meeting with Mr. X and introduce Faye like she was the best thing that has happened in The Garden for a while.  Yawn.  
  
Faye already knew The Garden by heart.  She'd posed as a random waitress and walked around the grounds several times.  The men were all of distinguished nature and _screamed_ money.  The women that hovered the place, Faye was surprised to note, were extremely beautiful.  It was as if she had walked in on a model shoot -- all of them were legs, and cheekbones, and ample busoms.  Faye, even with her own admirable assets, caught herself with bouts of insecurity when surrounded by them.  After listening in on some conversations, she also realized they were very educated and excellent conversationalists.  The Garden wasn't just a high-class brothel, it was _the_ brothel.  
  
It was through various hours of listening in and chatting up with patrons that she found out certain facts about the mysterious Mr. X -- the man was somewhere around his mid-to-to late twenties, possibly early thirties.  He was known basically to turn a bottom-barrel whorehouse to a huge multi-million woolong enterprise.  He was very mysterious and no one knew exactly how he looked -- the descriptions varied and were vague -- hardly showed up at The Garden except on random inspections.  Spike had somehow found out that Mr. X was scheduled to be at The Garden tonight, which was why everything had to go perfectly as planned or else it could be their last chance.  The man was brilliant, but apparently, he also had a weakness for tall, leggy brunettes with a nice ass, and a face preferably of Asiatic features.  Faye learned that once in a while, when The Garden employed a woman of that description, the young lady was lucky enough to have a private meeting with the elusive Mr. X.  Faye realized she was pretty much everything Mr. X wanted.  The plan was basically to get Mr. X interested in Faye, where she will pretend to seduce him before hog-tying him on the bed, and Jet, after she reveals her whereabouts, will help gather both of them up.  Spike was to keep the men outside company, or provide distraction if need be when the time came to make their exit.  
  
"You got that?" Jet finished.  Faye absentmindedly scratched her side.  
  
"Got it.  Don't worry, Jet, this guy is in the bag," Faye assured him, confidently.  Their plan had to work.  With that much money, Faye could finally say to hell with the Bebop.  And to hell with Spike.  
  
"You know what would make this plan even better?" Spike said, thumbing the exit. "If we actually get our asses in gear."  
  
They proceeded to do just that.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Faye hated him.  That was fine with Spike.  He didn't much like the shrew at the moment, either.  She could be such a huge bitch.  
  
As they made their way through the New Vegas strip towards The Garden -- they'd "acquired" a beautiful luxury vehicle, with Jet in another car -- Spike stole a few glances towards Faye.  The woman was a walking fantasy and a nightmare all rolled into one.  Especially the way she was dressed tonight: head to toe in expensive black silk, strapless, and its hem hiked up definitely above scandalous inches over her knee.  Her face was expertly painted that night -- no overdone rouge in the lips, her face pale and creamy, to match her shoulders.  She looked amazing.  His grip on the steering wheel tightened.  
  
It'd just been sex.  
  
Nothing more.  
  
He looked over at her again at the same time she turned her head.  Their gazes locked.  She looked... she looked...  
  
Shit.  
  
_Stop looking at me like that!_  
  
Julia.  Think of Julia.    
  
At the thought of his fallen angel, he turned his head abruptly and focused it back on the road.  
  
Faye hated him.  That was fine with Spike.  He hated Faye Valentine with all his heart.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Getting into The Garden proved to be no problem at all, much to Jet's great relief.  However, Faye and Spike must have had another fight because the two of them were radiating tension like nothing else.  Jet suppressed a sigh.  Spike and Faye always got on each other's nerves, but these days it seemed as if one of them had crossed the line somewhere from playful bickering to... Jet didn't know where.  But somewhere bad.  Hopefully, they were mature enough too keep a cool head during the entire operation.  
  
At times like these, Jet would think about Ed, and even the dog Ein.  Whenever Faye and Spike went on their childish tirades, it was ironic that the most mature of the Bebop crew would be a strange young girl, and her even stranger dog.  Well, technically, Ein was Spike's dog, but Spike would have none of that.  Ed would keep him company whenever Faye and Spike went on their missions or some other, and without Ed, Jet realized how hard it was to get much-needed information that Ed seemed to whip out from nowhere.  
  
On the side, Jet had been silently searching for the fiery-haired little imp but to no avail.  Faye, at one time, was in on searching for Ed, too -- apparently, despite Faye's constant declarations of annoyance towards the little girl, Faye thought she had a responsibility to find out if Ed had made it all right.  "If she's still a freak," Faye had told Jet.  But Jet had been "partners" with the bounty huntress too long to not know Faye had a soft spot for the girl and possibly missed her as much as he did.  And the dog... Ein knew how to play a mean Shougi game.  
  
Jet flicked a glance at his wrist, checking the time.  Hm.  In about ten minutes, there would be some live entertainment.  It was prime opportunity for Spike to schmooze his way through the businessmen and somehow seal a meeting between Faye and Mr. X.  And time for Faye and him to get more information out of these sex-starved men.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Faye was bored.  No wonder the men had to pay women to bang them -- even if they were good looking, they couldn't find a decent conversation if it ran and bit them in the ass!  Thank God for money and desperation, Faye thought dryly.  Faye hoped all this trouble for the night was worth it.  So far, she couldn't get much concrete information out of any of them -- besides their life stories and how their wives treated them so poorly, their children were all demons, blah blah... So sad.  Faye resisted the urge to choke herself or the patrons, just so one of them didn't have to hear them yammering away about how sad and lonely their lives were and all they had were their bagfuls of money to comfort them.  
  
Boo hoo hoo.  
  
She smiled politely at the latest schmuck she struck a conversation with and decided to leave by making an excuse to go to the ladies room.  When all else fails, use the classic escape line, Faye thought to herself, as the last guy just didn't seem to want to shut up.  As she flew past the crowd, a bright color made her pause.  
  
No.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
_Could it?  
  
_Faye twisted around towards the back of The Garden and -- yes!  Her eyes didn't deceive her at all.  She watched with open-mouthed shock as Ed bounced happily behind a woman with wild, dark pink, spiky hair.  Faye's eyes narrowed.  All right.  A punk girl, and her Ed inside a Gentlemen's Club...?  What the _hell_?  
  
Faye started towards Ed, who hadn't noticed Faye at all.  Faye quickened her pace, determined to find out what was going on.  In her haste, she didn't notice a figure in front of her and she managed to crash into him rather violently.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Sorry," Faye said distractedly, brushing his jacket and her briskly.  "So sorry."  
  
When Faye looked up again, she saw Ed's retreating back as she disappeared right behind the huge stage in the middle of the ballroom-esque architecture of the building.  
  
"Shit!" Faye snapped, angrily.  The man she'd run into started.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Faye waved him away and proceeded to leave, but a large hand clamped onto her arm.  
  
"Hey, let go of me, what are you doing?!" Faye exclaimed.  She looked up and realized the bulky man didn't look like a patron -- more like a security guard in "plain clothes" suit.  _  
  
FUCK._  
_  
_"Uh huh, mm hm," the man was saying, his hand pressed to his ear.  Dammit.  He was speaking to his authorities!  She had to begin Operation Clueless Skanky Girl.  
  
"I don't understand!  What's going on?  Did I do something wrong?" Faye asked, in a soft and high voice.  She fluttered her lashes for emphasis.  The security man loosened his grip but maintained his hold.  
  
"No, I'm sorry, miss.  Don't worry," he assured her. "We just need to speak to you privately in the back, if you will."  
  
"I-In the back?" Faye's tone turned saccharine. "What do you mean?  I... I didn't do anything!"  
  
"Of course you didn't, miss.  The boss just wants to see you."  The offensive man paused and winked. "If you know what I mean."  
  
"B-boss?"  Faye suppressed a shout of glee.  Did she have the charm or what?!  "Would that be... Mr..."  
  
"X," the man supplied. "Yes.  He likes girls like you."  
  
"L-like me?  But I'm not all that pretty.  I mean, in comparison to the others..."  
  
"Of course you are, miss!  Very pretty indeed.  Sexy... if you will," he added, as if he'd stepped the boundaries now.  
  
"Oh.  Oh, my.  Oh dear, oh my.  I'm... I'm speechless."  
  
"Yes.  They told me to escort you to... one of the private chambers, miss," the man continued, after clearing his throat.  Faye giggled girlishly.  Well.  Perhaps they didn't need Spike after all.  So this was going against their dramatic and well laid out plans... but que sera sera, she told herself.  It was time to improvise.  
  
"Well, then, let's not keep him waiting, now, shall we?" Faye tittered, pressing herself lightly to his side.  The man had the grace to blush.  
  
This was going easier than she thought.  
  
  
***  
  
  
What the hell was she _doing_?  
  
Spike watched in disbelief as Faye hooked her arm on some bumbling oaf and had him lead her through some thick wooden doors.  Where was she going?  
  
Spike turned his head and noticed Jet looking quite panicked as well.  Jet gave him a helpless shrug and pointed towards the doors.  Spike shook his head.  He had to go get her.  Great.  The plan was ruined even before it barely started.  Spike motioned slightly with his hands to tell Jet to stay put while Spike went to look for Faye.  He'd never felt so disappointed in one person in his entire life.  How could she be so selfish?  Three weeks of actual hard work, and she couldn't stay put in one room!  She was so oblivious to the danger she was in -- even if she was aware, Spike decided she probably wouldn't have cared either way.  
  
Perhaps if he got her before she did any more damage, they still could pull this off.  A little delay never hurt... For Faye's sake, Spike hoped that was true.  
  
  
***  
  
"In here?"  Faye was still using a kittenish voice, and pointing childishly towards the smooth doorway.  The security guard -- Stan, he'd revealed -- opened the door for her and waited for her to step in.  
  
"Right there," Stan nodded. "You just make yourself comfortable, miss."  
  
"I'll try," Faye grinned. "Good-bye, Stan!  it was a pleasure meeting you!"   
  
Stan nodded, entering the room more fully and closing the door behind her.  She listened until the sound of his footsteps disappeared, then started to laugh quite loudly.  She'd been right all along.  All that stupid planning had been useless.  Nothing that a little Faye magic to fix a situation.  
  
"Something funny?"   
  
Faye gasped audibly and whirled around, shocked to see someone was in the room.  Damn!  Was it Mr. X?  Did she make such a huge fool out of herself he wanted to kick her out?  Well... whatever the case was, at least Faye was going to get a good look at the man .  They could work on that.  
  
"Did I startle you?"  
  
The man's voice was warm and velvety, a little rough.  Bedroom voice.  Faye resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  She squinted, because the room was dimly lit and he hovered over the shadows.  
  
"I'm sorry." Faye decided to drop the Airhead Skank act and replace it with the Innocent Virgin facade. "It's just... this... I'm new to The Garden.  You... you would be my first customer.  Mr... Mr..."  
  
The man started to laugh.  To her irritation, Faye noted that the sound wasn't at _all_ unpleasant.  It was actually quite... nice.  Faye clenched her hands to her sides, but continued to smile.  Gee, all that bullshit with Spike actually came in handy now... "Is there something amusing to that, Mr...?"  
  
"Faye, stop it." The voice was clearer, this time, but still as warm and smooth as velvet. "I don't have time for games."  
  
At that, Faye knew her cover was broken.  Her demeanor quickly changed.  She straightened her back and crossed her arms. "Who are you, coward?  Hiding behind in the dark.  Real classy there, bud.  If I know who you are, why don't you step out and refresh my memory?"  She paused. "Where's Mr. X?"  
  
"I had no idea you'd become a bounty hunter, Faye.  Strong."  His voice lowered. "Dangerous.  It's sexy.  I like it.  When I found out, I wasn't at all surprised."  
  
"Thank you very much, but why don't you," Faye began, then removed a small gun hanging on a garter under her dress.  She pointed it towards the shadows. "Come out, so I can play bounty hunter and you play, do-what-Faye-says-or-she'll-shoot.  Fun, hm?"  
  
He laughed again.  Faye removed the safety and cocked the gun for emphasis.  Bastard.  The laughing stopped.  
  
"No need to become hostile," he said, slowly.  He took a step forward and into the light.  
  
The gun in her hand fell to the carpet with a dull thud.  
  
"No..."  
  
He smiled at her, softly. "Hello, doll face."  
  
  
  
  
**Chapter 2 -- Deja Vu All Over Again**  
  
  
Jet rubbed his face wearily with his hand.  First, he thought he'd been hallucinating -- he could have sworn he saw Ed!  But in a Gentleman's Club?  That had made no sense.  He'd rubbed his eyes and when he looked at where she had been, she was gone.  He decided that his search for the little girl must have fried his brain.  Now he was seeing Ed everywhere!  
  
And second, Faye went off to do who knows what!  They told her strictly to stick to the plan, no matter what else cropped up.  Despite the fact none of them knew _exactly_ why Mr. X was worth 300 million but decided to go after him anyway, Jet and Spike agreed that only an airtight plan would make the catch as painless as possible -- so whatever else Mr. X was into wouldn't get in the way.  Faye insisted that that the best course was to be flexible in times like these, but with such a wary bounty and without all the straight facts, it would be stupid to just head into the game without prior thought.  
  
Which was just what Faye seemed to want to do.  
  
The light suddenly went out, and Jet gasped despite himself.  Suddenly, there was a spark, and the entire place was lit up in a beautiful nighttime display.  Clapping began, which slowly crescendoed to a huge cheer.  Jet started as a spotlight came onto the stage.  In the middle stood a dazzling woman, with a shock of pink hair.  
  
"Hello, boys," she purred.  Her voice was actually perfect, since she was dressed like a sparkling cat: sleek and lithe and glittering all over the place.  Yow.  
  
The clapping escalated, punctured with hoots and hollers.  A small beeping distracted Jet and he realized his communicator was going off.  Jet looked about and moved behind a plant in the shadows to check the message.  
  
"Jet, change of plans," Spike said.  "I saw Faye enter one of the private chambers.  I think... I hope to hell it's because Mr. X is behind there."  
  
"OK, so what now?"  
  
"Well, we switch rolls.  You stay there and make sure everything's all right.  Be prepared if we need you for distraction.  And I'll carry out what you needed to do and bag the bastard."  
  
Jet sighed with relief. "Well, shit.  Faye was right all along."  
  
"Let's not go that far, Jet," Spike returned, dryly. "The shrew just knows how to improvise."  
  
"OK, everything seems fine out here for now," Jet told him, looking back admiringly at the half-woman, half-kitten on the stage singing a sad tune.  
  
"I bet," Spike snorted. "Keep focused, Jet."  
  
Jet rolled his eyes.  Spike telling _him_ to keep focused?  Now that was a first.  "We're wasting time.  Get the guy and let's get out."  
  
"Later."  
  
  
***  
  


Faye hastily bent down to retrieve her weapon, but he was already there before her.  He raised the weapon up and pointed it at her, and she took a hasty step back with her arms raised.  He sighed, cocked a lever, and the bullets of the gun fell to the ground.  
  
"I'm not here to kill you, babe," he went on, then dropped the gun.  
  
"This isn't... this isn't possible!" Faye got out.  "Xander--"  
  
"I know it's impossible," the man called Xander agreed.  He shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets.  He was wearing an expensive shirt tucked into his slacks, the same way Spike went about whenever he decided to go casual -- except his shirt was a deep, dark blue instead of the yellow Spike wore and Xander was also wearing a black silk tie to complement the shirt.  Faye couldn't help but notice he hadn't changed since she had last seen him: still as handsome as ever, with his dirty blonde hair in a general clean-cut manner with some loose bangs brushing against his forehead for fun.  This was exactly how she remembered him: smooth and controlled, with an undeniable wild streak.

"But here I am.  And here you are, for that matter," he returned. "You shouldn't even be possible.  The fact you're walking, alone, is miracle enough."  He slowly stepped towards her until they were almost touching.  He reached out a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear.  "The miracle of modern science."  He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. "You smell great, doll."

Faye blushed and pushed him away, making him laugh again.

"All right, all right," Xander smirked, charmingly.  "You want explanations.  You'll get them.  But first -- a drink."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Sure?"  Xander was already hovering over a table arrangement with a champagne basket. "Isn't this cause for celebration?  It isn't everyday you re-unite with your high school sweetheart."

  
***

  
Spike whistled quietly as he walked through the corridors.  It was like the hallway of a fancy hotel.  Slightly in front of him, he noticed a wealthy-looking man with his arm around a beautiful woman emerging from a room.  Spike continued to walk calmly, making mental notes of where the security alarms were as well as the forbidding looking tuxedo-clad guards at the exits.

"Hey, watch it!!" the wealthy man cried, when Spike cannoned into him.

"Whoopsie, clumsy of me!" he grinned, apologetically.  He winked at the beautiful woman who blushed furiously.  After the wealthy man flashed him a dirty look and his escort fussed over him, Spike fingered the bedroom key he'd just filched.  They walked away, still fussing, and Spike continued whistling down the corridor.  

Room. 237.  Perfect.  All the rooms must be similar, so he would somehow figure out how to enter the one Faye was in when she finally called him.  He'd seen her enter one of the rooms not too far from the key he had now so maybe he could sneak in through the vent?  Or was that too old school and obvious...?

He found the room without any trouble, and slipped the key into the lock.  As he entered the room, he decided that whoever this Mr.X was, he sure as hell spared no expense to satisfy his guests.  Spike had expected something out of a porno catalogue -- something loud, red, leather-y and a bit confining.  Instead, the room was huge -- it resembled more like a swanky apartment than a one-night hotel room.  As he entered, he noticed a small kitchen, a living room area with a glass circular dining table to the side and two seats, of course.  He inspected the place further and found the luxurious bathroom complete with hot tub.  And, of course, everything was done in a contemporary yet welcoming design, in warm, mood-setting colours.

Shit.  A guy could live and die in a place like this.

Spike noticed an open bottle of champagne on the side and decided to pour himself a drink.  Might as well get something out of this job while he was there.  He drank the glass in one gulp and wondered if the place had anything harder... he grabbed a handful of nuts from a crystal bowl and popped some in his mouth.

Well.  There was nothing else he could really do except sit here and wait until Faye gave him the get-go.  He plopped himself in front of the couch and turned on the flat-screen TV.  Just like home.

He frowned.  When did he start thinking of the Bebop as home?  It disturbed Spike; he'd never considered any place permanent enough to call "home."  Just as Spike was turning the thought over his head, his communicator beeped.  Spike checked his watch.  Geez.  Ten minutes.  Faye was a fast worker; he'd give her that.

However, the face on the screen wasn't Faye.  Jet stared back at him with a nervous expression.

"Spike.  We've got trouble."

***

  
Faye drummed her fingers against the glass table as Xander placed a mouth-watering steak dinner in front of her.  Neither of them had spoken a word since Xander ordered them dinner.  Faye felt a little guilty.  The man was worth 300 million woolong, and all she could do was sit there, eat his food and drink his wine.

But it was a damn good steak! Faye thought to herself as she attacked her meal with relish.  It was only after she was halfway through her meal that she noticed that Xander had hardly touched his, and was leaning on the table with his elbows and his chin resting against his hands.

"It's rude to put your elbows on the table," Faye said haughtily, grasping for anything to say.  Xander smiled faintly.

"You eat like it's your last meal on Earth," Xander said.

"Correction.  Venus."

"Right, right," Xander nodded. "Sometimes I forget... this entire galaxy.  It takes getting used to.  We used to think that Earth was the only habitable place."  He took a sip of his red wine. "Ironic that out of all the planets, it's considered the least habitable."

"Things change," Faye shrugged.  She gulped the glass of wine greedily.

"So do people, for that matter," Xander said, quietly.  Faye slowly lowered her glass.

"By that, I'm guessing you mean you," Faye returned.

"By that, I mean _everyone_.  You, me."  He paused. "Didn't one man say change is inevitable?  The only thing certain in this world is death and taxes."

Faye buttered her toast as she stared Xander straight in the eye.  "Not even that these days."

"Miracle of modern science," Xander repeated for the second time that night.  He smiled softly. "I love watching you eat.  Very... sensual."

Faye snorted, trying not to succumb to Xander's easy charm.  The last time she did that in high school, she'd lost her virginity, and then ended up a dumped, pathetic heap.  "Says the man to the woman with gravy on her face."

He reached out before Faye could react and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb.  His hand lingered for a second too long, and Faye sat rooted to her spot.  She flashed him an icy look.  Men have always tried to smooth talk their way out of a situation with her.  Not going to work.

"I'm still turning you in."

"Are you now?"  Xander whispered, his face against his hand again.

"You're worth 300 million woolong."

"Hm.  That's a lot of money.  I feel special."

"You shouldn't.  Over the years, the criminals have gotten worse.  You're pretty enough that one of them might want to make you their bitch."

Xander barked out a laugh, startling Faye. "God, that's what I missed about you, Faye.  You're a one-of-a-kind woman.  No one would even have the balls to say something like that to me."

Faye grew serious.  "Why are you even here, Xander?  You should be _dead_ or at least, geriatric!"  She threw her hands in the air and clicked her tongue. "What are you into?  How'd you get into so much trouble?  The last 300 million bounty was on a guy who tried to destroy the world.  Is that what you want to do?"

He laughed again. "Oh, nothing as dramatic."  He sighed, reaching into his pocket.  Faye stiffened.  He looked at her, lifting a brow and shaking his head.  "I'm not armed, doll."  He raised his hand to reveal a silver-plated cigarette case.  He popped it open and presented her with one.  Faye narrowed her eyes then shrugged, accepting a drag.  He took one himself.

"I'll tell you a secret, Faye," he said, whipping a match from nowhere and lighting it with a flick of his thumb.  Damn, the man was smooth, Faye thought as Xander lit her smoke, then his.  He inhaled deeply and breathed out to the side.  The food, the wine, the smokes... Xander was really pulling out all the big guns tonight, Faye mused.

"Well?" Faye prompted, taking a quick puff herself.  Oh, yeah.  That was great.  They'd ran out of money to buy smokes for the month and Spike wouldn't even give her one of his.  The bastard.  She shook herself.  Don't think about Spike.  It'd only upset you.

"What's the big secret?" Faye went on.  Xander stared her straight in the eye.

"There _is_ no bounty."

Silence.

"Say again?"

"It was all a set-up.  There is no bounty on my head."

  
***

Spike heard a scream and a crash.  Voices in the background began to escalate in volume.

"Jet, what the hell is going on!" Spike demanded.  Jet's face went back and forth towards the communicator and the chaos behind him.

"There's a fight.  Some guy started a fight over Kitty,"  Jet explained.

"Someone started a fight over a _cat_?"

"Yes -- I mean, no!" Jet cried.  "I mean, Kitty's a woman.  The one that was on stage a couple of moments ago."

"So what the hell do you want _me_ to do about it?"

"Get Faye and X and get the hell out of here -- _now_!  We're wasting time!"  Jet lowered his communicator so that Spike could see a bit of Jet's leg and some upside-down fighting in the background.

"Jet?  Jet!  What are you doing?  What's--"

"Gotta go, Spike.  Looks like Kitty might need some help."

"JET!  _Dammit_, man, what are--"

The communicator screen turned black.  Spike punched the couch in frustration.  Well, shit.  Why didn't anything ever go as planned?  He sighed, smirking to himself.  Not that he truly expected anything to, with this bunch of misfits he banded with.

But Spike was a man of action, a man who thought quickly on his feet.  Being prepared for the unexpected was what kept him alive all this time.

  
***

  
Faye took a deep breath.  Did he really think she would fall for such an easy lie?  Apparently, her disbelief was so blatant on her face that Xander spoke before she could.

"We were both victims, Faye.  You and I," he began earnestly.

"What are you talking about?"

"They put me to sleep too, Faye."  This time, when he laughed, there was no humour in it.  Faye's hand automatically went to her mouth and she felt sick.  The time after she'd been "revived" had been the worst in her life.

"A few years after you had your shuttle accident... I got myself into a horrible car accident. Thought it wasn't an accident.  Somebody wanted me dead."  He took a puff of his smoke. "Bomb in the porsche.  Or something."  He shrugged. "You remember the porsche, Faye?  We used to ride down the road for hours with the top down for no reason at all."  He sighed.  "Anyway.  The next thing I know, I wake up at a hospital with gunk all around me, and those lights buzzing around like...fucking... old robot movies?  Star Battle?  Galaxy Wars?"

"Star Wars," Faye supplied quietly, reeling over the strange turn of events.

"Yeah, Star Wars."  He grinned.  "You, too?"

"Something like that."  Faye frowned. "Who wanted you dead, Xander?"

"I'll get to that," Xander promised.  Abruptly, he placed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "I wanted to die, you know.  When they brought me back.  I wished my family had let me die."

Despite herself, tears pricked Faye's eyes.  Remembering that time of confusion and doubt, of friendly faces betraying her and taking advantage of her vulnerability, always made Faye angry beyond words.  Like Xander had just said, there were times she wished herself dead -- a person without an identity might as well be, she had thought.

Xander understood.  She stared at him.

"You got your memory back."

"Yeah.  A couple of months ago, actually."  He snorted. "It only took me around three years to get it to kick in."  He placed her hand into his open palm, and his other hand over it, enveloping it with his warmth.  "You were one of the things I remembered first and foremost.  You know what's funny?  I think they started doing a whole bunch of resuscitations the entire week, because... I think.  No... I _remember_ that you were in the hospital when I came to.  I didn't know who you were then.  But... when I got my memory back, I knew.  I knew it was you."

"Xander..."

"You're the only one left, Faye," he said, clutching her hand. "You and I.  We're the only ones left from our past.  Everyone else is dead or dying... we're like--"

"--ghosts."  Faye barely whispered the word.

Xander smiled slowly and nodded. "Yes.  That's exactly it.  In and out of everyday life, barely noticeable but yet still present.  Of this world, but not.  Existing but not really."  He butted his smoke out in the ashtray.  "Do you believe in fate, Faye?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... this.  Our meeting."  He released her hand to take a sip of his drink.  "It's obvious you have your memory back.  I wasn't sure if you had.  But I'm guessing this isn't something that happened instantaneously."

"I just remembered everything... a year ago."

Xander nodded.  "But before that... you went under a different name, did you not?  Poker Alice?"

Faye straightened her back.  "What do you know about that?"

Xander laughed. "Nothing.  Except that you bet your stakes just a couple of buildings away from The Garden.  I even browsed through the place a few times before.  Imagine.  Both of us were just inches away from each other and not knowing."

"And that's what you call fate?"

"Isn't it?"  He started ticking things off with his fingers. "We were both awoken the same week.  We both 'worked' on the same strip.  All of which leads to this point.  With you.  In my room."

"One of the _many_ rooms in The Garden," Faye was quick to amend.  She was uncomfortable with Xander's insistent personal tone.  "I came here because of a bounty, not because of fate."

"Ah.  But see, the bounty is _fake.  _And it was just a lark I did after I figured out that Poker Alice was Faye Valentine.  And that Faye Valentine was a bounty hunter."  He shrugged. "I just thought, perhaps, it would be easier for _you_ to find _me._"

"Oh, for God's sake.  I don't believe you."

Xander shook his head. "Faye.  Think about it.  A 300 million woolong bounty?  And it didn't even get shown on Big Shot?"

"Big Shot doesn't know every huge bounty that goes around," Faye returned, remembering what Spike had told them. "Sometimes the bigger fish are supposedly left to the authorities, but a bounty is set on them -- unofficially -- just in case the ISSP screws up.  Which they do and will."

"A fine story.  I'm sorry, doll, but it's all false," Xander returned. "That was just a rumour I started up.  A plausible rumour, but a rumour nonetheless.  Big Shot is not at all affiliated with the authorities -- the show prides itself in being an independent crime-fighting information entity.  Big Shot _always_ does a background check on every suspicious bounty that comes their way.  Sometimes, people phone in with fake bounties.  Somehow, my little rumour spread all the way to Big Shot and they had our story investigated and found it false."  He smirked. "Sorry to disappoint you, babe, but I'm just your every-day entrepreneur."

Faye stood up from her chair. "B-but that's-- that's--"  It couldn't be true!  Three weeks, _three weeks_ --wasted!!

"You just put out a fake bounty on your head on the off-chance that _I_ would catch wind on it?"

"Worked like a charm, I see."

"No.  You're lying," Faye insisted. "Why all the secrecy then, huh?  What's up with all this 'Mr. X' crap and--and-- _Shit_, Xander, it took us three weeks to get this far!"

"Three weeks?  I do cover my tracks well, I suppose," he said, unapologetically. "You understand, Faye.  You ran off, too."

"You didn't pay off your bill to the hospital?" Faye gasped.

"Why do you sound so surprised?  You didn't, either."

"But--"

"I _was_ a rich man the last time you knew me, Faye.  Or rather, my _family_ was rich.  But, since I had no recollection of my past, I couldn't reconcile with my previous accounts.  I had to start from scratch.  I didn't have around 300 million woolong to spare."  He shrugged. "Even if I do now, I wouldn't give those heartless bastards one cent."  He stood up as well, coming closer to Faye.  "And, despite the technical legalities of my venture, it still isn't 100% reputable."  He winked. "Which is another reason why we get business."

"So you mean... three weeks..." Faye murmured weakly.  "But Spike said..."

"Spike?"

Faye clenched a fist and punched a palm.  "That... that... _idiot_!  He was the one who came to us with the bounty in the first place!  He said it was legit and under control.... He pretty much came back from the _dead_ for this bounty!"

Xander's voice was wary.  "You didn't act alone..."

"_DAMMIT!_"   Faye screamed.  At the same moment, a loud beeping noise rang in the air.  Faye automatically reached for her communicator, but Xander already had his flipped open.

"Yes, what?  I'm busy," Xander snapped.

A voice came through the communicator.  It sounded like Stan.  "Sorry, boss.  But we have a little... problem.  Miss Kitty--"

All of a sudden, Xander's demeanour changed.  He was all business. "What happened?"

"I think you should get to the stage immediately, sir," Stan continued.

"All right."  He closed the communicator and put it in his pocket.

"What's going on?" Faye demanded.  Xander sighed.

"Faye, we'll continue talking.  Stay here, I need to deal with business right now."  Xander stalked towards the door.  Faye trotted after him, grasping his arm.

"Hey hey!  Oh, no you don't!  You can't get away from me!" Faye exclaimed.

"I'll be back, Faye, I promise," he said, and caressed her cheek.  Faye blinked, unsure of what else to do or say.  Xander turned to leave and reached the door.  He put his hand to the knob and turned it slightly.  He paused.

"Oh, what the hell," he said loudly, and Faye wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or speaking to Faye, but the next thing she knew, Xander had stalked back towards her.

"Huh?" Faye squeaked as Xander took her face into his hands, and then pressed his lips against hers.

What happened next was almost too strange to recount.  Faye was too shocked at Xander's actions to make any other move, so when she heard a gun shot, she was still in Xander's embrace.  To her amazement, the door of the room was kicked open, the hanging doorknob revealing that it had been shot --

-- And on the other side of the door was Spike, his gun pointed straight at them.

  
***

  
  
  
  


  



	2. Ch 3

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
  
  
by Reia   
  
  
rawr@lealea.net  
http://xox.lealea.net/  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: **Cowboy Bebop. Not. Mine. Don't. Sue. Thanks.

**Summary: **Sex, violence, and drama. Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left?

**A/N: **I've given in to temptation and am posting Chapter 3 without Chapter 4. Chapter 4 is half-way done, but I'm wondering what you will all think of the turn of the story. I'm flattered at all the reviews. Thanks, everyone!

In my effort to make this story true to the spirit of Cowboy Bebop, I've also included a lot of interesting "inspirations" from our pop culture and real-life facts to characters, scenery and whatever else I can lay my hands on. I will reveal each of them in every update I give.

In this update, I'll focus on The Garden. In Las Vegas, there _are_ actual, completely legitimate brothels (plural!) in operation. Prostitution is legal in the state of Nevada. The women there are paid loads of money (depending on the brothel, the women usually are able to set the rates with their partners, as well have the ability to choose and/or reject a partner if they wish) -- upwards to 5 to 8 _thousand_ dollars a week. I can't list a certain brothel that The Garden is based on because it's just based on the idea of a legal brothel, and I figured that in a strip called New Vegas in Venus, The Garden would be one of a string of brothels but that it happened to be the _best_ of the bunch. 

And what in the world is a _cowboy_ story without a _brothel_, eh? :)

However, I must add that I do not, under any circumstances, condone such institutions. I think prostitution, despite being the oldest profession in history, is best left there: in the history books. I don't want to go into any more detail over how demeaning and dangerous I find it for women because this is not an essay about prostitution. It's about Cowboy Bebop. : P

And thus ends today's Inspiration Update!

**Credits: **_Why Don't You Do Right_ is by Rasputina... I suggest you downloading the Jessica Rabbit version from the _Who Framed Roger Rabbit?_ Soundtrack. :) 

(I'm surprised Yoko Kanno never did a remix of this for Cowboy Bebop...)

***** **

**  
Chapter 3 - Cat's Cradle and a Silver Spoon**

Jet supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. During his days in the ISSP, he'd handled many difficult cases that had ended up going haywire on him. Hell, just being associated with Spike guaranteed Jet an unforgettable sort of experience. And after a year of bounty hunting with Faye, he should have known better. But once in a while, something would always catch Jet off guard.

This was one of those times.

Contrary to whatever Spike thought, Jet _was_ focused on the job. More focused, he suspected, than either Faye or Spike was. Those two were always _doing_ things before thinking about them.

After Spike had given him the current update on the Faye situation, Jet had prowled the premises of The Garden, eyeing the security guards and making notes of their places, where the stage was, as well as looking out for the patrons. What helped was that the entire room had been dimmed because of the current stage act and it made Jet inconspicuous.

Once in a while, he would stop what he was doing just to check out the act itself. After the woman had finished her first song, the stage announcer had revealed the woman's name was "Kitty" -- a fitting title for someone in a sparkling cat suit.

She had real stage presence. Her voice was strong and a little husky -- a sound meant to rake across a man's thoughts. It had been doing a hell of a fine job raking through Jet's...

The next song she sang had been a little more upbeat. Jet had recognized the song as a 20th century tune he'd heard in an old Hollywood movie.

"_You had plenty money 1922,_" Kitty had growled, softly. "_You let other women make a fool of you_..._Why don't you do right...?_"She wiggled."_Like some other men... do?_"

Kitty had taken the microphone off from its stand and was already on her way towards the piano man. 

"_Get outta here... give me some money, too,_" she'd purred, and then punctured the song with a laugh. Jet decided he'd liked her laugh -- throaty and so... so... _feminine_. The men in the gallery roared and started to clap. Kitty stretched to her full height, with her hands reaching towards the sealing. She made a yawning gesture, quite like a cat, and almost fell on top of the piano, in a surprisingly graceful manner.

Jet couldn't help but blush because the movement was so blatantly sexual. The other men, however, were nothing but appreciative as their hoots increased.

"_You sittin' down wondering what it's all about... if you ain't got no money, they will put you out._" Kitty had sat up abruptly on the piano and crossed her legs, pointing into the audience. "_Why don't you do right...? Like some other men do?_"

Kitty had jumped off the piano and was heading down the steps of the stage. Applause had broken out. Jet had also noticed at the corner of his eyes that the security personnel seemed to be on alert, ready to spring if there were any problems. Hm.

Kitty had continued singing the song while teasing some of the patrons, who were all too eager to participate. Jet supposed that was when the trouble started. Kitty seemed to have total confidence and control, but the last patron she'd rubbed up against wouldn't let go of her arm. Jet had been too far, so he couldn't have heard exactly what words had been exchanged. Kitty had abruptly stopped singing, and the microphone was dropped on the floor, causing some high pitched audio disturbance. Jet had cringed and covered his ears, and was rudely pushed by some security guards to move out of the way.

The screeching sound from the speakers seemed to last forever, but it was only replaced by some more shouting. The security guards immediately swarmed the table where the patron was harassing Kitty. The man had obviously been drunk and overzealous when Kitty had stopped by his table. Once a security official approached him, the drunken man had _decked_ him!

Of course, like fire to tinder, the single spark of violence gave room for more, and suddenly, somebody wanted to punch somebody else.

That was when Jet had decided to call Spike -- Spike and Faye had to get Mr. X out while the chaos ensued and the distraction factor was high. In the middle of his conversation with Spike, Jet had heard Kitty scream that made him cut Spike out. He had faith that Spike and Faye would be able to carry the mission out without many problems. He'd hoped.

Which was where he was now, trying to get through the throng of patrons and beautiful women running around the room like chickens with heads cut off. At the moment, Kitty was unsuccessfully trying to disappear within the mess of patrons, but she kept one being pushed back to where she was originally. The security personnel were too busy trying to break up mini fights that erupted that they seemed to have forgotten the cat woman.

Jet somehow managed to throw some people out of his way and was finally within the small circle that trapped Kitty. She looked quite distressed and very angry. She was pushing everyone around her, trying to get out. It was as if she was claustrophobic.

"Excuse me," Jet cried to get her attention. "Miss Kitty!"

Jet pushed the remaining block in front of him and grabbed the woman on the arm. She screeched, startled, and swung an arm at him. Yow! The woman was feisty!

"I'm here to help you!" Jet exclaimed as she struggled within his grip. She stopped moving for a millisecond to regard him, and their eyes locked. Her eyes were purple, he realised unnecessarily. He noticed she was thinking really quickly what her options were, but she must have seen something trustworthy within Jet so that she nodded her pink head.

Jet grasped her hand and pulled her away from the crowd, after pushing and grunting his way through the people. He looked around for the exit of The Garden and started to head towards it when Kitty tugged at his hand.

"No. This way," she urged, tilting her head towards the backstage. Jet looked around and noticed there was a clear way so he nodded. As he continued to pull her, he must have jerked her a little roughly because she cried out and tripped a little. Embarrassed, Jet decided the best course was to pick up and carry the woman.

"Whoop!" she exclaimed as he swung her up into his arms, and he trotted towards the backstage entrance. Once through the doors, he set Kitty back on her feet. Kitty surprised him by bursting out into laughter.

"Are you hurt? Are you all right?" Jet asked, wondering if she was traumatized in some way, which accounted for the laughter. Kitty waved at him with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.

"Sorry," she said, between giggles. "I-I'm fine. It's just that... it's been so long."

"What?"

"It's nice, knowing I still have a little of the ol' magic left," Kitty went on. She ran her hand through her incredibly pink hair. "Ever since I hit my thirties, I haven't been able to incite a riot." She blew across her fingers. "Nice to know that I can still bring a house down."

_Thirties_? Jet thought incredulously. He'd thought the woman was in her early _twenties_ the way she dressed and moved and looked. However, now that they were in close quarters, he had a better look at her face. She was still beautiful, of course, but he now noticed that her skin was tighter across her bones and very very fine lines, hardly noticeable unless inspected, tinged the corner of her eyes.

"So you're all right now, ma'am," Jet said, just to make sure.

Kitty patted her nose, not unlike a cat, and pouted. "Don't say 'ma'am.' That makes me feel really old." She sighed and slowly came closer to Jet, and it was only when Jet felt the wall against his back that he knew he was trapped. By a half-woman, half-cat.

"You know," she said quietly. "I never thanked you for saving me out there." She tracked her fingers from his chest up to his chin and tapped it gently. Jet tried to move away, but Kitty pinned her hands against his shoulders and pushed him back against the wall with surprising strength.

Jet stared at her, wide-eyed, wondering what she was going to do. Kitty's lashes fluttered and her lids lowered into slits. Jet swallowed as Kitty licked her lips and then pressed her body against his.

"I don't think-- ma'am. M-ma-ma'am," Jet stammered, wondering how in the world he was going to get out of this, and at the same time wondering _why_ he wanted to get out of this...

The hands against his shoulders clenched, as if to claw them, and she levered herself up against his body, with her knees around his waist. At the moment, the only thought Jet entertained was how limber the woman was.

"Don't call me 'ma'am,'" she husked. Then, to Jet's utter amazement, she_ licked_ the side of his face! She giggled, and he felt her body rumble against him, the sensation quite pleasant. Damn. He hadn't had a woman for so long... so long. Suddenly, he found his hands gripping the sides of her hips.

She writhed in his arms as she stared boldly into his eyes, and angled her head lower. She nudged her nose against his in a playful manner and her lips were... inches... mere inches away from his.

"Thank… you," she rumbled, her mouth so close that her lips had brushed against his ever so slightly as she'd spoken. Jet leaned down to close the gap when she giggled abruptly and jumped off of him. Her sudden departure left Jet feeling empty and... unsatisfied. He stared at her open-mouthed.

"I haven't seen you here before," Kitty went on, as if nothing had happened. "Come again another night, why don't you, when there are no drunk assholes around. Then..." She poked him on the chest. "... Maybe we can have ourselves a little party, hm?" She cocked her head and winked before turning around, possibly to head towards her dressing room. Without looking back at him and without slowing her stride, she lifted her hand and waved.

"It'll be on the house," Kitty called.

Jet merely stood dumbfounded while he watched Kitty's sauntering back.

  
***

A few seconds must have passed, but it had felt like hours to Faye. One moment, she was in Xander's arms, the next, Spike had been pointing a gun straight at them. Faye had a good look at his face, since the hallway was better lit than the interior of the room, and what she saw on his face frightened her: cold rage mixed with a dash of hurt.

Faye also noticed that Spike's trigger finger was beginning to depress, so in a moment of pure panic, she pushed Xander away from harm. He gasped, falling to the floor and rolling to the side while Faye jumped back as the shot was fired -- and broke straight through the bottle of champagne on the dining table! Glass exploded everywhere.

"Spike!" Faye screamed. 

Spike's expression did not shift as he quickly turned towards Xander's fallen figure and pointed his weapon towards him, once more. Realising that Spike was actually going to _kill_ Xander spurred her to rush towards him and crash into him full force. The gun went off again, but the bullet went askew and hit a light bulb on the ceiling instead. Faye miscalculated the force in which she tackled Spike and she ended up causing him to lose his balance and she fell on top of him with an angry thud. Consequently, the Spike's gun fell to the ground and got kicked to the side of the room in the process.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Spiegel?!" Faye demanded, still on top of his winded body. She punched his chest – hard – for emphasis.

"Get off of me," he said, coldly. The tone in his voice made the hairs on Faye's arms stand on end. Startled, Faye scrambled to her feet and tried to smooth down her crumpled dress.

"You could have killed him," Faye shot out, shakily. Briefly, her expression turned pained. "You could have… you could have killed _me._"

Spike stood up and looked at her, his expression blank and unmoving. He stared at her as if she was a stranger. The shock of it all drained Faye of her colour. He really tried to kill her! she thought, madly. Infuriated, Faye flew at him impulsively, fists flying.

"You bastard! You _bastard_!" Faye hit him wherever she could lay her hands on. Angry tears sprang at her eyes. She had never felt so betrayed in her life. "You shot at _me_!"

"Faye," Spike grated, trying to back away. Faye continued with her wild assault. It wasn't a pointed attack per se that Faye was unleashing as much as just pent up frustration bubbling to the surface. "Stop it. _Faye_."

"Bastard!" Faye screamed. "You tried to kill me!"

"Faye, you're hysterical." He grasped at Faye's shoulders to stop her from hitting him again. "Faye!"

"Why did you come back? Why? Why?" Faye was almost sobbing. The words all came tumbling out before Faye could do anything to stop herself. The bounty was long forgotten. Faye pounded on his chest. "I hate you! I wish you'd stayed dead!"

Her words echoed across the room, like a ball bouncing in an empty court. Funny, Faye thought to herself, how everything those days seemed to go in slow motion.

Spike's hands fell away from Faye. They both stopped moving. Faye realised she was holding her breath. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second – before a familiar _click_ behind Faye made them both stiffen.

_Xander_. He had Spike's gun…!

All of a sudden, a thunderous onslaught of footsteps joined the "click" and Faye saw possibly half a dozen or so tuxedo-clad security men bounding towards them from all directions, their weapons in hand. They stopped short a few feet away, their barrels pointed and ready.

_Shit_.

They were surrounded.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Still dazed at Kitty's ministrations, Jet stood in his place for a few minutes. Never in his life had he ever met someone so… forward. He shook his head as he decided to head back into the ballroom when, of all things, he heard…

… _barking?_

Jet frowned as he heard some muffled voices try to calm the dog down. He pressed his back against the wall and made his way towards the corridor where the commotion started. Once at the corner, he craned his neck and tried to look at what was going on.

"How'd he get out? Isn't this the third time this has happened?" one man muttered. The dog continued barking. There was something strangely familiar at that bark. At the moment, Jet couldn't make anything out since all he could see was a leash and tuxedo-clad men's backs.

"I don't know!" the other man returned.

"Geez, what kind of dog is this anyway?" the first man asked. The dog continued barking.

"I don't know, who cares. We have to get him back to the lab," the other man returned. The dog must have had other ideas to their plan because he suddenly broke free from their grasp and bound across the hallway. Finally, he got a good look at the commotion. Jet stifled a gasp as he pressed himself back against the wall in surprise.

_Ein!_

The other men ran after Ein as he bounded down the corridor. Jet was still inconspicuous in the hallway he was in, but he could see everything that happened. It took all of Jet's self-control to stop himself from running after the dog himself. A million and one questions buzzed through his brain. What was Ein doing inside a high-class brothel? And if Ein was here, then…

… then so was Ed! That would mean he hadn't been hallucinating when he thought he'd seen her earlier in the night. But it didn't make any sense! Ein… Ed… What the hell was Mr. X _really_ doing in The Garden?

"Hold him down, hold him down!" one of the men yelled. "Come on, quickly!"

Jet suppressed a smile at the tenaciousness of the dog. It would take no less than two grown, muscle-bound men to take down the brilliant Corgi. He watched as one of the men had to hold the dog down with his weight while the other man pressed something on the wall. Amazingly, the wall slid to the side to reveal a room!

Jet's brows drew together as he watched as the two men entered the secret room, with Ein in tow. The wall closed once again, as if it never had been opened.

"See anything interesting?"

Jet visibly jumped at the voice to his side. He turned and noticed it was Kitty – except minus the show make-up and glittering cat-suit. She was still beautiful as ever, but clad in an expensive evening gown in place of the cat-suit, and her hair was pulled back in an elegant manner.

Jet straightened, trying to get his bearings back when Kitty invaded his personal space. She took one, long manicured finger and toyed with his tie. She looked up at him, while one finger hooked against the bow of his tie.

"I knew you weren't one of those spoiled rich boys the moment I laid eyes on you," Kitty said, quietly. She laughed, slightly. "And most of them have spaghetti for muscles," She squeezed one of his pectorals with her free hand, "So muscle-man -- who are you, hm?" She angled her head. "What's your name?"

"I—"

"It's kind of unfair, since I don't know yours but you know mine."

Jet said nothing for a while, pondering the consequences of telling her of his identity. Finally, he decided to reveal his first name.

"Jet." She rolled the name around her tongue like good candy. "Hello. I'm Kitty," she grinned. She took a step back. "I'm a showgirl. What are you?" She paused. "ISSP?"

"Why do you say that?" Jet asked, instead. The woman was very astute.

"I dated a cop once," Kitty shrugged, surprising Jet. "You look like a cop. Are you after Xan— Mr.X?"

"If I am?"

"Well, that's not nice. He's my boss," Kitty told him. "I'd be out of a job if you arrest him."

"I'm not here to arrest him," Jet replied, honestly. He was here to _collect_ him for a bounty. He narrowed his eyes, stepping to the side to get some more space between him and Kitty. She was obviously using her feminine wiles to distract him – and despite the fact he'd love to _be_ distracted at the moment, Jet wasn't some green boy out for the first time.

"Well, you're definitely not here for a good time," Kitty returned.

"Why do you care?" Jet threw back.

"Because," Kitty sighed, her face serious. Her voice was no longer playful. "I do. Because this place is dangerous. And you're in over your head, all right?" She shook her head. "Forget what you saw. Get out of here."

"I could get _you_ out of here," Jet offered.

Kitty managed to smile at that. "Sweet. You're sweet. No," she shook her head. "You can't get out of here. Once you're in, that's it." She directed him towards the exit. "Come on, just go. Please."

"Do you know a girl named Ed?" Jet said, instead. Kitty stilled. "Thin girl with messy red hair? A little weird, plays with computers." He made a gesture with his hand. "About nay high. Usually seen with a Welsh Corgi? A dog that understands humans?"

Kitty said nothing and looked away. Jet grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. Her violet eyes were wide and frightened. "What is Ed doing here? And the dog? What do you want from them?" He shook her slightly. "Dammit, Kitty, what's going on?"

_Click._ Jet felt the barrel of a gun touching his back.

"Let her go."


	3. Ch 4

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
  
  
by Reia   
  
  
rawr@lealea.net  
http://xox.lealea.net/  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: **Cowboy Bebop. Not. Mine. Don't. Sue. Thanks.

**Summary: **Sex, violence, and drama. Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left?

**A/N: **Eeee! All your reviews make me happy and fuzzy inside. Thanks again!

**Inspiration Update:** Check out http://www.merlene.com/catinthe.htm for the MIDI and lyrics for "Cat in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin. And I don't know if you've noticed, but I've made several "cat" analogies. Chapter 4's title is obviously taken from "Memory" a song from the musical _Cats_.

As for "Kitty" – I just thought to myself, what in the world is a cowboy story without a "Miss Kitty"? So here she is. :-)

***** **

**  
Chapter 4 – Alone in the Moonlight**

  
  
Spike had to laugh. Anything that could have gone wrong during the evening did. It hadn't been the first time Spike had jumped into a bounty hunt head first without knowing all the consequences, but this was ridiculous: standing, surrounded by half a dozen armed men, while his bounty held _his_ gun towards _him_. It was laughable. So he raised his arms in "arrest" position and laughed.

Faye, beside him, was not amused. She jabbed him hard against the ribs with her elbow. The woman was lucky he felt partly responsible for the fiasco so he didn't respond in kind. In fact, he'd just let her pretty much beat him up a few minutes ago.

Not that he really blamed her for being upset at him. She had every right to be. Hell. He _did_ shoot at her. Well… that wasn't entirely true, either. It was a little confused, in his head. The events of the night had a surreal quality to them.

Spike had felt that way ever since surviving that attack with Vicious – life didn't seem _real_ any more. Not even a bit. After he first "died," he'd somehow managed to rebuild a _life_. Despite the fact he'd sometimes thought he was in a dream, more often than not, the people around him were _real_. Now, the real bits began to mix with the dream bits – _at the same time_ – and frankly, it pissed Spike off a lot. More accurately, it frightened him, though he refused to admit it.

It wasn't his fault. Everything was supposed to end with Vicious. But it didn't. It was strange to Spike. When he'd woken up in the hospital, he'd wondered if his eyes had somehow been damaged because all colour of the world had been drained. Nothing seemed… bright anymore. There were no contrasts in the sights, the sounds -- everything. It was as if somebody had overlaid a layer of white noise over the entire world. Life was one giant shade of grey.

It was surreal. Tonight seemed to emphasize that point even further.

When Jet had informed him of the chaos in the main area, Spike's thought was to get in and get out as fast and as efficiently as possible – so that meant no theatrics. So when he came to the room Faye had entered he thought it would be quick: _boom_, shoot the handle off, kick the door open, quickly get the bounty tied up and disabled, then do a mad rush towards the exits. Spike would probably end up carrying the bounty while Faye covered for him with fire power. It was a simple plan; a plan Spike had executed many times before along with Jet without a hitch.

However, Spike hadn't been prepared for his own reaction. Spike supposed with his many near-brushes with death, he must have had some sort of out-of-body experience during one of them. However, tonight had been the first time he felt like he'd been ripped away from his own body. As the events progressed, Spike felt less in control and more like an observer in his own skin.

His reaction to the scene had been automatic. He hadn't even paused to think. Faye had been wrapped in X's arms – Spike supposed he should have expected that – Faye _was_ supposed to use her feminine wiles to get to X. However, Faye didn't seem to be in control at all. Furthermore, she didn't seem to mind one bit.

Spike knew he had slowly been going mad the past year, and what he had thought at that moment had proven it to him. In the back of his mind, he _knew_ it had been Faye and he _knew_ that had been Mr. X.

But all he _saw_ was Julia.

And Vicious.

He _saw_ Julia and Vicious together, and the first thought that had crossed his mind was that they were _dead_. Julia was dead. She'd died because of him. She'd died because he had been stupid. He might as well have shot the gun himself. He had killed Julia. He had killed Vicious. He was dead, too. He remembered shooting him. He remembered Vicious slicing into him.

Perhaps that was when he pulled the trigger. Julia was dead. Vicious was dead. Because of him. Spike knew that the bullet could have hit either Faye or Mr. X – but in his mind's eye, all he'd seen was Julia and Vicious and he didn't care. He didn't _care_ if they died.

Because they were already dead. Like _he_ should have been.

When Faye knocked him down to the floor, it had brought him back to reality in one fell swoop. It was disorienting to see Julia's face melt away to reveal Faye – the same way it did… that night. It had made Spike infuriated. Mad at Faye. He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help it. He knew it was unfair of him to blame his insanity on the woman, but the shrew certainly wasn't helping matters.

Spike acknowledged he had been acting like a total asshole. It did make him feel a little guilty. The pain in her green depths had been unmistakable. But whenever he looked at her, he would just take a leave of his senses. Once upon a time, Faye and he had almost been like brother and sister: always bickering, but truth be told Spike had actually grown to like the bossy wench. He knew despite the constant verbal abuse they threw at each other, Faye had also come to respect him. 

He had seen the signs but he had chosen to ignore them. During those final days, he had noticed small shifts in Faye's behaviour that led him to have the niggling feeling that Faye perhaps had more-than-friendly feelings for him. He never could have reciprocated any of her growing affection, of course. When he had left to fight Vicious, he had known his fate all along and knew that he would never have to face that issue at all. 

When she'd shouted that she wished he was dead, Spike had thought about how much he had wanted her request to have been granted. Alas, fate was unkind and here he was, alive and well. And having to face the Faye issue after all.

Spike continued to laugh, despite the guns pointed at his face and Faye's obvious discomfort. He even managed to sneer at Mr. X.

"Isn't this a bit much?" Spike drawled. Mr. X's position didn't waver, and neither did his focused expression.

Mr. X was a tall and strong fellow, Spike supposed. He also had a face a woman was likely to swoon for. However, at the moment, Spike wasn't too impressed. Mr. X didn't seem to be more than a snobby rich boy who had control over too many people with fire power. Which also made Spike wonder why in the world the owner of a brothel _had_ too many people with fire power… it reminded Spike of something. What exactly, however, escaped him for the time being.

"Both Faye and I are unarmed," Spike pointed out. "Do you think you really need an entire team to keep us from springing?"

"I'm a powerful man," Mr. X said, softly. "I didn't get to my position by favouring a fragile ego and being stupid." His perfectly aqua blue eyes met his mismatched chocolate-coffee eyes evenly. "Who are you?"

"Spike Spiegel."

Obviously, the man recognized him, judging from his slightly surprised expression. Spike grimaced faintly. Goody.

"Spike Spiegel," Mr. X echoed.

"You got it. Bounty hunter extraordinaire."

Faye made a choking sound beside him that Spike decided to ignore. Apparently, Spike had amused Mr. X because his comment drew a grin. Although, Spike suspected that there was more to it than that. Mr. X's grin looked genuine enough, but it was _too_ relaxed. Cool. Detached. Spike recognized that smile.

It was a smile of a man who had the power to crush anything he willed, and didn't blink once while doing it.

"I've heard interesting things about you Mr. Spiegel," Mr. X acknowledged with a tilt of his head. The gun in Mr. X's hand pointed towards Spike remained unwavering.

"Really? Hopefully all good," Spike drawled. He smirked and spoke in his most amiable tone. "And please, I almost killed you. Call me Spike."

"This has all been a huge mistake, Xander," Faye broke in, finally. She passed Spike a fleeting cold look. "No one's here to…_kill_ anybody."

_Xander_, huh? So the two were already on a first-name basis… Spike chuckled mirthlessly. Good going, Faye.

"You find this situation amusing… Spike?" Xander, who didn't seem to find anything amusing at the moment, asked.

"I find it freaking hilarious, actually," Spike retorted, brightly. "Laugh-a-minute."

Xander grinned. An eerie, calm smile.

It was the last thing Spike saw before a gun came crashing behind his head and he welcomed black oblivion.  
  
  
***  
  
  
Spike shifted against the sheets and groaned. His head hurt like hell. In an effort to block out reality, he pulled the covers over his head and buried his head into the pillow. Did he go and get himself drunk…?

"And Sleeping Beauty awakens." Jet? What was he doing in his room?

He sat up abruptly on the bed, dizziness assaulting him. All at once, the memories came flooding back and pain sliced between his eyes. Ouch. He felt the bruise at the back of his head. Son of a bitch had him knocked out.

He looked around and realised he was inside one of the room suites. He frowned. Well, he totally didn't expect that.

Before Spike could utter anything, Jet stood up and sighed. "There are about five men standing outside this room armed with semi-automatic assault weapons. We aren't about to go anywhere."

"Pretty boy's sure uptight with his security. But this is hell-a great for a prison, though," Spike drawled, still rubbing his head. "Damn, this really _hurts_."

"Will you be serious for one second?!" Jet exploded, puncturing his sentence with a pound against the wall he was near. Spike fell silent. Jet's patience was nothing short of legendary, and the rare times he lost it, Spike knew Jet meant business.

"They have Ed and Ein."

Of all the following sentences to come out of Jet's mouth, _that_ hadn't been one he'd thought of. During the year, he'd tried to forget the entire Bebop crew. He hated kids and dogs. They were nothing but a nuisance. He remembered the gangly Ed as the weirdest person –and he'd met a lot of weird ones – he'd ever met. And all he needed was a smart-ass dog to finish the package! Ed and Ein shouldn't have mattered. But the moment Jet had finished uttering the sentence, Spike felt something he hadn't felt in a _long_ time –

_Fear_.

"What are you talking about?" Spike said, finally.

"I thought I was hallucinating earlier tonight when I saw Ed. I mean, what the hell is Ed doing in a place like this…?" Jet sounded like he was speaking half to himself. Spike found his package of smokes and patted a cigarette out.

"Then, after I helped Kitty— "

"Who's Kitty?"

Jet ignored him and went on, "I snuck around the place and found these guys trying to subdue a dog. Lo and behold – it was Ein!"

"Are you sure it was the mutt?"

"How many over-intelligent Welsh corgis run around a brothel the same night I spot its weird looking owner?"

"Touché." He played with his cigarette with one hand, moving it over and under his fingers.

"They went into a _secret room _after, for God's sake!" Jet concluded. His eyes narrowed. "Everything's beginning to add up here. I had my suspicions what the bounty was all about, but I wasn't really sure."

"What are you saying?" The question was rhetorical for both of them. All the signs pointed to the most obvious. The way Spike had heard of the "secret bounty" should have tipped him off…

"Dammit, Spike!" Jet roared. "I am _not_ going to be thrown into one of your ridiculous suicide missions!"

Spike popped the unlit cigarette into his mouth and threw his pack of cigarettes to Jet, who caught it easily.

"Have a smoke. You're starting to get hysterical like Faye."

"You knew what Mr. X was all along, didn't you?" Jet accused. Spike shrugged. He had never been completely sure, but since he had been close to the position himself, once upon a time… And the way Xander had handled himself and how he was treating all of them… how Xander had been familiar with his name… Spike had made an educated guess over Xander's deal.

Spike sighed and walked over to Jet. "I didn't know. I _thought_. I didn't _know_. But now," he shrugged, "it's pretty safe to say it's a sure thing."

Jet nodded grimly, accepting the light Spike lit for him. Spike did the same for his and took a long, deep drag from it.

Jet locked his gaze with Spike's.

"He's a syndicate crime lord."  
  
  
***  
  
  
Jet heard the door click open behind him and followed Spike's gaze towards the entrance. Jet stiffened as he recognized the man who had apprehended him. It was Stan, the brutish man who had led Faye to Mr. X in the first place. Despite Stan's appearance, he was actually quite adept at his job. Jet supposed he could have resisted and made a clear get away, but with Kitty nearby as a possible liability, and then Stan getting the message that Mr. X had caught both Faye and Spike – the best decision seemed to be to go as peacefully as possible. Jet would be no use to them injured or even free, since he wouldn't have any idea what had been going on.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Stan greeted with a nod.

"Where's Faye?" Spike demanded, coolly.

Stan crossed his hands behind his back, shifting his jacket slightly so the handle of his gun was briefly in sight. Jet knew the gesture was not an accident – more of a "gentle" warning. Stan shook his head.

"Your Miss Valentine sure has Mr. X very enthralled."

"She's not _mine_," Spike replied quickly. Jet's brows drew together at Spike's hastily made response. Jet stared at Spike for another moment before he turned his attention back to Stan.

"What does your boss want from us?" Jet demanded.

Stan raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Please. All in due time." He leaned back against the door. "You both are very lucky men. You are being held in a gilded cage, boys. He made it clear to everyone that neither of you are to be harmed in any way—unless it was absolutely necessary for our own protection, of course," Stan added. Spike barked out a laugh.

"Right," Spike snorted. He blew his smoke towards Stan's general direction.

"What are you here for, then?" Jet assumed Stan had some threatening message from his boss.

"Insurance," Stan said, simply. "Mr. X likes to take the extra measure of actually sending personnel to make sure than neither of you escape or plot anything nefarious."

"_Nefarious_?" Spike cackled. "So you read the dictionary. Good for you."

"How long are we supposed to stay here?" Jet asked.

Stan shrugged. "As long as Mr. X sees it fit."

"Great," Spike said, sarcastically. "You know, since X-Man is on a roll with the generosity, when are the ladies going to come?"

Stan ignored him and looked straight to Jet instead, who sighed deeply. "Is he like this all the time?"

"Look, enough bullshitting," Spike said in a bored tone. He ground his cigarette rudely on the wall. Stan's eyes narrowed, disapprovingly.

"We don't give a flying fuck over what your Mr. X wants," Spike continued, in a calm and easy manner. "In fact, I'm getting tired with this entire situation. We just want our money and we'll get out of your asses."

"Money?" Stan sounded confused.

"We were here to collect for a bounty," Spike told him. Jet slapped his hand over his face and rubbed it tiredly. Spike gestured with his hand.

"Tell him if he gives us 150 million woolong, we won't turn him in for a bounty. Or accidentally kill him," Spike added, with a cheeky smile. Jet flashed him a look. What in the world was he planning?

"Did I mention earlier that Miss Valentine is with Mr. X at the moment?" Stan countered, with an equally friendly smile. "I believe he's quite smitten with the young lady. But he never lets pleasure override business."

"The fuck do I care?" Spike shrugged. Jet gaped at him.

"Don't listen to him!" Jet interrupted, finally. "There is no deal—"

"Shut up, Jet. This is between me and—"

"Stan," the brutish man replied.

"Stan," Spike acknowledged. "What Faye and X does on their time is their business. I don't give two shits. I just want my money. Tell him that." He waved Stan away. "Go."

Slightly flustered, Stan frowned at him, then went out the door. Jet stared dumbly at the door for a few moments. With fists clenched, Jet let it rip.

"What the hell was _that_ all about?!"

Spike sighed and walked over to mini-kitchen to grab an apple. "He's out of the room isn't he?"

For possible the millionth time that night, Jet was rendered speechless. Spike never ceased to amaze him. Jet should have known by now that the crazier Spike acted, the more sane he actually was. He certainly did think on his feet. Jet scratched his head.

"What now?" Jet asked, aloud.  
  
Before Spike could even begin to reply, a loud crash coming from the outside made them both jump. The crash was followed by a chorus of yelling and then, gunfire! They exchanged glances before rushing towards the doorway. Jet twisted the knob a few times and slammed his shoulder against the hard wooden door. He nearly crumpled back in pain. Hell. He didn't want to lose _another_ arm…

"Dammit, Jet, you watch too many _movies_. That move only works there!" Spike reproached. Jet narrowed his eyes. Cocky bastard.

Jet nursed his bruised shoulder and glared at his comrade. More muffled shouts could be heard, and some sounds of fighting.

"Then what the hell do you suppose we do?"

_"Move away from the door!"_

Jet did a double-take as the shouted command was undoubtedly Faye's voice coming from the other side of the door. He and Spike barely had any time to react as the door's handle was shot off, and the door kicked open. Faye wobbled on her heels, framed in the doorway.

"Is that my gun?" were the first words out of Spike's mouth.

"Come on, we're getting out of here," Faye told them. Jet frowned deeply as he noticed her perfect hair in complete disarray, the beautiful style she'd laboured so long for a mere memory. Her dress, he noted, was also a bit crumpled. Tracks of mascara ran down her face, like angry skid marks. Jet almost gasped.

Faye had been crying!

"Faye, what happened?" Jet exclaimed. Faye flashed him an impatient look, and waved them both out to the hallway, where unconscious guards lay limp on the floor.

"Let's just go, OK?" Faye's voice sounded deceptively even, but the slightest tremor escaped and Jet's alarm bells started ringing.

"Faye!" a man cried from one of the hallways. Jet couldn't see anyone. The man must be wandering around.

"_Run_!" Faye screeched, and made a hysterical mad dash towards the exit. In her haste, she tripped over one of the fallen guards, twisting her ankle harshly and making her fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Jet stifled a sigh. Only Faye would be capable of disabling five heavily armed guards in one moment, then ruin her work with her plain clumsiness.

Faye scrambled to get up, but she must have placed too much weight on her injured ankle that she immediately crumpled back on the ground. Off to the side, Jet heard Spike grumble out a curse before making powerful strides towards Faye.

"What are--?" Faye gasped, as Spike bent down and scooped her up. He grunted as she squirmed in his arms.

"Fuck, you're heavy," Spike complained. He looked towards Jet and motioned with his head to move forward.

"We better make a run for it before any of them wake up," Spike suggested. "And, ah, grab a couple of those babies—" He kicked at one of the semi-automatics left on the floor. "—for us, just in case, eh?"

"Let me go!" Faye protested. Spike loosened his grip immediately and Faye squeaked, her arms throwing around his neck as well as her legs around his waist, grasping for life. Spike rumbled with laughter.

"Asshole," Faye spat.

"Oh, you love it," he returned, arranging his arms to hold her properly. Faye growled in response. Sometimes Spike was just too much, Jet thought.

"_Faye!_" The shout was closer, and Jet whirled to see a young man at the end of the hallway, with a posse of men surrounding him.

_Shit!_

"Go! I'll cover!" Jet commanded, cocking the guns from underneath his arms and positioned them to shoot. The men froze for a millisecond, when they realised what was in Jet's hands. Their bodies seemed to take flight from the knowledge, all of them scattering in all directions, and falling to the floor, their hands covering their heads as if it would defend them somehow from cold steel travelling at a hundred miles an hour.

_Ratatatatatatatatatatat…!_


	4. Ch 5

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
  
  
by Reia   
  
  
rawr@lealea.net  
  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: **Cowboy Bebop. Not. Mine. Don't. Sue. Thanks.

**Summary: **Sex, violence, and drama. Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left?

**Author's note: **So yeah, this hasn't been updated in _over a year_ – but I had a good excuse – it was my last year in college, I had a lot of things happening in my life (got myself a bf, scrambled to finish school, went on internship, started off my career as a Print & New Media Specialist… :P)  So this fanfic went to the backburner.  Also, I had a _huge_ writer's block and I seriously wrote and re-wrote this chapter at least 7 times to make it perfect.  I'm still really busy with my job, but I'll update when I can.  I'm really thankful for all the interest everyone has shown.  I'll try my best to keep up the good work.  Meanwhile, everyone should watch KILL BILL!  Very Bebop-y.

**Inspiration Update: **A lot of you had many pressing questions on your reviews, but you can't expect me to answer them without spoiling any of the story, silly. ;)

**Credit: **Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow is an old love song sung by the likes of Roberta Flack and many more.

***** **

**  
Chapter 5 – Will you still love me tomorrow?**

Faye gasped as Spike's none-too-gentle hold on her swung her body like a sack of rice.  Bastard!  Faye snapped her head back to scream at him, but instead her eyes locked on a distance blue gaze glittering just above Spike's broad shoulders.

Even amongst the mess of bodies flying and running around… even through the smoke and chaos.  His blue eyes were like a beacon.

In that split second, Xander's stare spoke more than a thousand words could say.

***

_"Where did you go? What are you going to do to Spike?"_

_"Just finished the business in the ballroom." _Pause. _"Don't worry, doll, he's safe." _Pause._ "You're not sleeping with him, are you?"_

Nervous laugh._ "Don't be absurd."_

Pause. _"I had to ask. His reputation precedes him." _Pause. _"I should have known you wouldn't have fallen prey to his charms, lacking as they are. He's also joined by your other comrade, by the way."_

Pause_. "You mean Jet." _Pause. _"What are you going to do to us?"_

_"For your friends, nothing at the moment. This Jet you speak of is guilty of trespassing and some chaos, but as for Spike…" _Pause._ "I don't take attempted murder very lightly, Faye, so I am considering some harsh penalty for Mr. Spiegel."_

_"We didn't come here to kill you, we thought there was a bounty—"_

_"Perhaps _you_ didn't. I trust your word. It's the other men I don't trust. Especially Spike Spiegel." _Pause_. "I haven't thanked you for saving my life back there."_

_"We're not murderers, Xander. And anyone in the same position would have—"_

_"No, Faye. They wouldn't have. They would have run to save themselves. You pushed me out of harms way, and potentially could have been hurt by your own so-called partner. You knew it then – that was why you lashed out at him in the hall."_

Pause. _"It was nothing."_

_"It was everything." _Pause. _"You feel it too, don't you?"_

_"Feel… feel what?"_

_"Us."  
  
***_

Spike jerked Faye again as he re-arranged her in his arms while he ran down the hallway.  Jet was yelling at them now, but Faye could hardly understand anything he was saying with the gunshots and the thunder of steps following them.  She couldn't see Jet either. Irritated, Faye wriggled in the awkward embrace—her legs were still wrapped around Spike's waist, like she was a 2-year-old.

"Jesus Christ," Spike swore, as he halted his steps abruptly.  Faye's head whipped from side to side and her heart leapt to her throat.  The heavy patters of feet were not only coming from behind them, but in front as well.  Xander's men were coming from everywhere!

"Get ready," Spike whispered, harshly.  Faye looked up at him in confusion.

"What?"

But before Faye even realized what Spike was going to do, he'd dropped her unceremoniously to the ground and whipped his belt off from his waist.  Faye tried to sputter something coherent out of her mouth, but found she couldn't.  His movements were so fast that Faye could barely register what he was doing.  Spike leapt – my God, was he _super human?_ – and charged headlong into the group of men that was closing in fast.

Spike moved with a panther's grace – dangerous and lightning quick.  The men were startled at Spike's offensive decision, causing a few of them to pause.  Which gave enough time for Spike to crack his belt like a whip against one of the thug's face, and kick another incoming one from the side.  The kick resulted in the man careening back and cannoning straight into his comrades, scattering their bodies.

One of them men made a fast grab at Faye and quickly put her into a headlock.  _Wrong move, asshole_, Faye thought as she struggled in the man's vice grip.  Faye grabbed her captor's head between her hands and proceeded to throw him over her shoulder.  She kicked off her injured foot's high-heeled shoe, and it slammed against her assailant's face as she had planned.  She dropped to the floor swiftly to sideswipe the man who'd crept behind her, and he dropped with a surprised thud.

Her ankle throbbed terribly, but Faye struggled onwards despite her pain.  She kicked off her other heel as she awkwardly stood up.  Once up, she noticed Jet was on his knees and Xander towering over him.  A couple of men grabbed onto Jet, lifting him to his feet and once up, Xander clocked Jet across the face.  Abruptly, the wall beside them opened up and without flicking another glance at her direction, Xander and his men stepped in with Jet's body.

"JET!" Faye screamed, frantically.  A hand grasped her arm and she was about to twist it when she realized the hand belonged to Spike.  A quick glance behind him showed that the other men were unconscious.  She also noted that Spike had a gun in his hand now.

"Where'd all of them go?" Spike demanded.  Faye shook her head, confused.  She pointed to the wall.

"The wall…over there.  It just opened up and all of them just went in!"

Spike clicked his tongue and tilted his head.  With a shrug, he aimed for the wall and began shooting – much to Faye's dismay.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she shrieked, watching helplessly as Spike finished off the rounds of the gun.

"The wall's not normal," Spike declared.  Faye frowned, realizing the bullets hadn't penetrated the wall very well or cracked it as much as it should have. "It's fortified, just like…"

His voice trailed off and Faye waited impatiently for him to finish. "Like what?"

Spike tucked the gun into his tux jacket, despite its lack of ammunition, and shrugged.  He glanced at the still-unconscious bodies of men nearby.  They wouldn't be unconscious for long.

"We need to get out of here."

"What about Jet?" Faye gasped, incredulously. "Do you want to leave Jet with them?"

"Forget him for now," Spike said to Faye's shock.  How could he be so… so…

She stared at him as if for the first time.

_… so calm?_

"We need to get out of here first.  Come on," he insisted, tugging at her arm – Faye realized ridiculously he had been holding her arm the entire time with his free hand.  He motioned towards a direction down the hall. "This way."

Faye bit back a scream of pain as he tugged her towards the closest exit.  She could get through this.  As they came closer towards their target, Faye could hear muffled voices and footsteps not too far behind.  She glanced around frantically, realizing there was nowhere to hide – it was just one long corridor of doors and no corners.

"Spike!" His voice came out strangled – half from stifling the pain shooting up her leg and half from running.

"I hear them," he acknowledged, without stopping or turning around.  At the same time, she noticed he was rifling through his pockets with his free hand.

"What are you doing?" Faye demanded.  The voices were rising in volume.  Spike stopped abruptly in front of a door and he finally let go of her wrist to do double duty for searching in his pockets.

"What are you looking for?" Faye asked, her head whipping back and forth towards Spike and the hallway they were just at.  Suddenly, men appeared at the end of the hallway, and Faye's heart leapt—

-- just as Spike opened the door, violently grabbed Faye, and both of them flew inside the room.  The door slammed shut, with Faye's back against it, knocking the wind briefly out of her lungs.  Spike was right over her, his arms splayed on both sides of her head, his forehead almost touching hers.  His hot breath fanned against her face.

"Spike—"

Spike's left hand covered her mouth, quickly.  "_Shhh_."

The voices and footsteps were at its highest decibel level, and Faye realized with horror that the men were just on the other side of the door.  Faye closed her eyes, willing her breathing to return to normal, trying to calm herself.

_"Where did they go?"_

_"They couldn't have gotten far."_

_"They must have gotten into the main grounds.  We have to alert the men on watch out there."_

A communicator beeped.

At the sound, Spike's hand left her mouth, and Faye licked her dry lips.  She was suddenly very parched.  Abruptly, Spike began to press himself against Faye, to rest his ear against the doorway.  Ridiculously, Faye's heart began to race, as his familiar scent assaulted her senses.  She was all too aware of every hard muscle rubbing against her soft flesh.  She blinked her eyes open and tried to press herself against the doorway even more in order to alleviate some of their body contact.  But, as she moved, he moved as well, as if they were connected.  It was slowly driving Faye's hormones mad.

_Get a grip on yourself, Faye,_ she said mentally.  She had more control than that.__

There were more shuffling sounds on the other side of the door, and some more footsteps.  But soon, the sounds diminished.  

Faye and Spike remained in their positions for what seemed like an eternity.  Faye swallowed with difficulty.

"Spike…"

Spike said nothing as he detached himself from her and the doorway.  He leaned back, his hands in his pockets.  Faye gazed at his face, but his expression was unreadable, as always.  Faye hated that with a passion.  Anger gave way to her frustrations.  She pointed a finger at him.

"This is all your fault!"  
  
***  
  
_Dammit!_ Jet thought, as the weapon in his hand ran out ammo.  He threw the now-useless weapon as hard as he could at the approaching men and tried to make a run towards Spike and Faye.  He also tried calling out to them as a last-ditch effort, but he knew they probably couldn't hear.  They were shooting at him now!  And Spike and Faye looked as if they had troubles of their own as a new crop of men came from nowhere towards them.

All of a sudden, a leg came flying from nowhere and connected with his stomach.  Jet lurched forward in pain, and a hard fist slammed down the back of his head.  His vision blurred and swam before him, and he struggled to remain conscious.  He lifted his head and realized the young man leading the group had hit him.

Mr. X.

Jet fell to his knees, despite himself, and he noticed X make a flick of his hand and suddenly a couple of men pounced on Jet and locked onto his arms.  Jet tried to struggle and yell out to Spike and Faye, but he was hit again – much harder – across the face and the last thing he remembered seeing was glittering, sapphire eyes.

***  
  
Soft.  The bed was soft.

Those were the first thoughts the flitted through Jet's mind as he drifted back into consciousness.  Almost immediately following that thought was the headache pounding against his head.  So this was how Spike felt like, Jet thought ruefully.

"Wake up."

The voice was very familiar, feminine – but it was harsher than he had last heard it.  Jet blinked his eyes open and sure enough, Kitty was in his line of sight – a vision in pink.

Jet tried to sit up, and was quickly slammed into the reality of his wrists and ankles shackled onto the bed with cold steel.

"Kitty… what--?"

"I'm asking the questions now, officer," Kitty interrupted.  She was frowning deeply, her demeanor tense and rigid as she stood with her feet shoulder-width apart and her arms crossed.

"I'm not ISSP anymore, remember?" Jet said softly.  He tilted his head to get a better look at her, trying to ignore the pain.  Her eyes were the color of topaz, Jet realized.  For a moment, it reminded Jet of Ed.

"It doesn't matter," she dismissed.  She lifted a brow, as if reading his thoughts. "We don't have _cells_ here, Mr. Black.  This is the best we can do.  Enjoy it while you can."

Jet tugged at the shackles on his wrists experimentally.  The wood of the bed seemed to be made of oak. Unless he put a shit load of force beneath his movements – hard with his ankles shackled as well – he would not be able to break free of the bed.  He sighed.

"Shouldn't there be some ugly brute watching over me instead of you?" Jet asked aloud. "Or is this his way of trying to soften me up?"

Kitty smiled mirthlessly. "Maybe."

"So what are you going to do to me?" Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jet couldn't help but think of interesting scenarios that could occur if he was tied up on a soft bed and alone with a very desirable woman.  A small smile touched his mouth.  Spike was a horrible influence.

"Do?  Nothing," Kitty answered easily.  "If you comply and answer all my questions."

"Why are you doing this?" Jet asked instead. "Is Mr.X forcing you to do this?"

"Actually, when I found out what happened, I insisted on seeing you.  Xander didn't want me near you, but I'm rather persuasive when I want to be," Kitty smirked, her voice dropping.

"And if I don't comply?" Jet asked anyway.

"You don't want to know," Kitty returned.  She approached the bed hesitantly anyway.  It was so obvious she wasn't used to this type of situation.  Despite her tough-woman act, Jet could sense her vulnerability.  Even with Jet securely tied down, she was still calculating her risk.

"Why don't you just ask me the questions, and I'll see if I can answer," Jet offered.  If anything, Kitty was probably a misguided pawn in the twisted empire Xander had built.

Kitty sat at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him.  It was an interesting contrast from her behavior beforehand – a memory that was still fresh in Jet's mind.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­"How do you know Edward?" Kitty blurted out, startling Jet.  It was exactly the same question burning at the back of his mind.

"So I was right," he murmured. "I wasn't seeing things."

"Answer me!" she said sharply.

"What is Ed doing here at The Garden?" Jet asked instead.

"That's none of your business!" Kitty bristled.

"Like hell it isn't!" he shot back, angrily. "This isn't a place for a young girl to be in!"

"You're right," Kitty agreed, surprising Jet. "But that still doesn't answer my question.  How is it _your business_ that Edward is at The Garden?  Tons of young girls come through these doors all the time – granted, not as young as Ed, but there are even younger women who grace the streets all the time.  Do you care about them?"  The words were bitter and stinging.

"You're crazy if you think this is the life for Ed!  Do you have any idea who she is?  What she's like?" Jet countered.

"You don't know anything!" Kitty exclaimed. "How would _you know _how Ed is like?  What her purpose is?  _How do you know Ed? _Tell me!"

"She—" Jet paused in confusion.  What was Ed?  An old partner?  No, that didn't sound completely right.  A friend?  Well, yes, of course she was… but that didn't sound right either.

"She's… my niece," Jet said, finally.  Kitty's expression told Jet that wasn't the answer she was expecting.  Her frown deepened.

"You're lying!" Kitty responded.  Jet lifted a brow.

"She is my niece," Jet repeated. "So it makes it my business that she's being held hostage by a Syndicate."

"She's not being held hostage!" Kitty retorted.  The implication of otherwise made Jet's blood boil.

"Ed would never willingly enter a _brothel_ or a _syndicate_.  She would never _work_ for the likes of you," Jet spat, his temper flaring. "Unless you are forcing her."

"She's not working for us and we are not forcing her to do anything," Kitty told him, in clipped tones. "And as for the 'likes of me' – What exactly is that Mr. Black?  A whore?  Is that what you want to call me?  If that's the truth, just say it and get it out of your system."

Jet sighed gratingly. "You're twisting my words."

"And you're lying to me.  I know without a doubt you are _not_ Edward's uncle."

"How's that?" Jet asked with a healthy dose of skepticism.  No one really knew where Ed came from – except that he knew her father was Appledelhi.

"Because the only blood-related uncle Ed has is Xander," Kitty told him.

Suddenly, the world to Jet became very, very still.

"You're lying.  It's not possible.  Xander can't be her uncle." _She was an orphan_, Jet thought to himself.  Besides her long-lost father, she never mentioned having any other family.

Kitty's brows shot to her hairline. "Now _I'm_ the one lying?  The only things you've done were to pretend you cared about my Ed and then lie about being her uncle."

"She doesn't have any other family besides her father… my brother, Appledelhi," Jet improvised, quickly. "Appledelhi and I are her only family."

"Now I _know_ you're definitely lying," Kitty grated. "Appledelhi was an only child."

The gears in Jet's mind began to whir rapidly.  How in the world would Kitty know any of that?

"He was my brother-in-law," Jet replied, easily. "I'm Ed's uncle on her mother's side."

"Stop it," Kitty said, softly. "Just stop lying to me.  I've heard enough.  Whatever you want from Ed, you're not going to get it."

Jet searched her face and was thrown by the sincerity etched in every pore.  It was if she was truly concerned over Ed's welfare…

"I just want her to be safe," Jet said, honestly.  His remark made her wince slightly.

"So do I," Kitty said. She sighed and asked a different question, "Who are you, Jet Black, ex-ISSP?"

"I'm just another bounty hunter, is all."

"Does Ed have a bounty on her head, is that it?  Is that why you want to know about her?" she pressed.  Jet shook his head, sighing.

"You think you know me and what I want," Jet began, "So why don't you answer that question yourself?"

Kitty's full lips straightened. "I'm going to ask one last time why you care about Ed and how you know her."

"I'm not going to answer anything until you tell me what business it is of yours to know!"

"What business is it of mine?" Kitty sounded outraged.  She bolted to her feet.  While patting her chest passionately, she repeated herself once more, her voice rising in hysteria, "What business is it of mine?"

Jet lifted a brow, waiting patiently.  Her gaze flickered, as if conflicted over what she was about to say.  Lip curling, she straightened her back, ready to answer.

In clear tones that brook no argument, she declared:

"I'm her mother."

***

Author's Note: OK, good, bad, ugly?  Worse than before?  Well, I'm trying very hard… It'll get better, I hope/promise!  Till next time!


	5. Ch 6

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
  
  
by Reia   
  
  
rawr@lealea.net  
  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: **Cowboy Bebop. Not. Mine. Don't. Sue. Thanks.

**Summary: **Sex, violence, and drama. Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left?

**Author's note: **You like me, you really like me!  So, yah, Kitty is Ed's mom -- some people were floored, others saw it a mile away.  Personally, I thought I was heavy with the hints.  But, it's all good.  :-D  Anyway, as for the Xander-Kitty-Ed family tree: It'a all actually very, very messed up.  But it'll all make sense once the smoke clears.  ;-)

As for why didn't Jet just tell Kitty the truth in the first place?  He's an ex-ISSP cop from a group of notorious bounty hunters talking to someone working in a s_yndicate_.  For one thing, he was drawing it out to see Kitty's answer beforehand.  He's an ex-cop.  It was his job to get people to say things.  He didn't know what Kitty would do with information.  Imagine Kitty is a huge evil bitch (and at this point, who's saying she _isn't_?) and maybe she was making an act about caring about Ed.  Maybe she was lying all along to make Jet sympathetic to her, and then later, Jet realises Ed really is in danger... remember that Ein tried to make an escape earlier on.    Now why would Ein do that if everything was all right inside The Garden with Ed?  Hmmm.... ;-) 

At any rate, it was my creaky writing skills that didn't make it clear.  I should have scattered some more internal thinking through the dialogue -- maybe I will in a revised version of Chapter 5.  We'll see.

And yes, Spike/Faye action -- patience, patience.  I'm not a fan of rushed love arcs.  You can't fan the fire too quickly, or it'll smother itself and die out.  We want their loving to last _all night long_.  *grins like a Cheshire cat*

**Credit: **Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow is an old love song sung by the likes of Roberta Flack and many more.  Also, thanks to Elan for her support and her beta-ing skills (she didn't beta this chapter, but she kinda did last chapter, and I'm just too impatient for her to beta this one hahaha)

***** **

**  
Chapter 6 - Will you still love me tomorrow? Part 2**

The door to the Bebop swished open and Faye stumbled in first, head held high -- or as high as her quivering chin could hold.  Her pain was obvious.  Spike had realised it almost immediately, but said nothing and offered no help.  Bitch.  She wouldn't appreciate it, and he really didn't feel like having another argument or fight, and at the mood he was in, he might feel inclined to hit an injured woman.  She went immediately to her room without another word, and Spike tugged at his tuxedo tie with one hand while the shoulder opposite it shrugged one side of his jacket off.

Getting out of The Garden proved hilariously simple.  Since both Faye and Spike had scouted The Garden many times before their mission, they were already aware of where most the guards, exits, and cameras were located.  All they had to do, which they did, was hastily blend into the crowd.  And when a couple left, they would follow close behind, and walk straight out the door.

Spike had to explain to Faye that the best course was to leave for now to catch a breather and regroup.  They weren't any use caught off guard, fighting against a group in their territory.  Also, Spike doubted they would do anything too terrible to Jet; not if they wanted something to bargain for the next day.  They would have done the same thing if any of them had been captured.  Faye had reluctantly agreed.

Of course, Xander had meant for all of that to happen.

It didn't bother Spike too much.  Xander's move was almost... predictable, even.  It was obviously a mind game; a type of power play.  Xander wanted them to know that their escape was only because he allowed it so -- largely because Xander knew that Spike and Faye would be back for more.  If only to reconcile with Jet.

Spike threw his jacket onto back of the worn yellow couch, and sighed deeply.  When he heard of the bounty, he hadn't expected things to get this complicated, this quickly.  He knew the stakes were high, but adding Ed and Ein into the mix, along with the unbalanced way -- more so -- that Faye was behaving... and Jet getting captured.  Things were unravelling so quickly.

That hadn't been part of his plan.

From behind him he heard some heavy shuffling, and he flicked a glance at Faye, clad in her white t-shirt and short short grey boxers.  _Damn._  Faye did have killer legs, he'd give her that.  He raised his gaze from her legs to her torso to her face completely devoid of make-up.  Half her hair was down and the rest were up in an untidy half-pony tail, with some wayward tendrils brushing against her brows.

Pretty.

His stomach clenched at the sight and he hastily looked away.  _Geez, Spiegel, what was that about? _he thought to himself, disturbed.  For an entire year, he'd barely noticed the women who had been literally throwing themselves at him, but frankly, he just hadn't been interested.  Meanwhile, this was _Faye_ of all people.  There were many more women, more beautiful, more pleasant, more intelligent, more demure, and more brave.

More like Julia.

A year of mourning and of celibacy could only last so long, he lamented.  Faye just happened to have been there.  It wasn't _her_ in particular he was interested in...

As Spike plopped down onto the yellow couch in a boneless movement, he caught Faye sticking her tongue out at him.  He automatically flashed her his middle finger, without changing his straight expression.  In response, she left the room in a huff.  He rolled his eyes.  Damn, but she annoyed him.  At points, she even disgusted him.   At worst, he actually hated her.  He glowered.

Faye came back to the "living room" and sat on their make-shift coffee table with a couple of bandages and an icepack by her side.  Spike took a quick glance at her ankle and winced at how swollen and red it was.

"Does that hurt much?" he found himself asking, before he realised it sounded like he cared.

"What do you think?" Faye replied testily, as she bandaged her ankle.

Spike turned his head away and stared at the ceiling, while absentmindedly playing with his top shirt button.  "I think you're a huge klutz."

Faye snorted.

_You're an asshole, Spike Spiegel._

Spike sat up, startled, and whipped his gaze sharply at Faye. 

"What?"  he whispered, hoarsely.  Faye eyed him oddly, but smirked slightly.

"I just said you were an asshole."

Spike's eyes narrowed a fraction as he focused his stare.  That hadn't been _Faye's_ voice...  Faye frowned in response.  Realising how he must seem, he quickly tried to regain his composure.

"Right."

Of course, Faye was more perceptive than she let on.  She almost looked concerned. "You feeling okay?"

"Fine," he replied, tersely.

Faye's expression clouded. "I was just _asking_..."

Spike stood up, abruptly.  He had to get out of this room.  Away from _her_. "Well don't.  Just mind your own business."

"What's your problem!" Faye exclaimed, bewildered at his sudden mood swing.

Spike didn't answer, and merely stalked out of the room.

***  
  
_"Spike...?" _Pause_. "Mmm, good morning."_

Low chuckle_. "Is it?"_

Pause_. "It can be." _Pause. _"I think I love you."_

Pause.  _"Okay."_

Pause.  Wryly: _"You're an asshole, Spike Spiegel."_

_"If you love me, then what does that make you?"_

Light laughter. _"A fool."_

Loud laughter. _"Or maybe you just like a nice piece of ass!"_

Pause. _"That too."  _Small chuckle.__

Pause. _"Julia..." _Pause. Pause.

_"I know." _Pause.

_"One day..."_

_"I know." _Pause.  Sigh. _"I know."  
  
_***  
  
Faye hated it when Spike had his mood swings.  _He's as hormonal as a pregnant woman_, Faye thought sourly.  One moment, he was the cool, collected, asshole Spike, and the next, he was the confused, shaken, asshole Spike.  He would never explain himself -- he would just leave the room like a sulking child.

If anything, Faye thought she had more right to act like the petulant adolescent, with the various jokes life had pummeled her with.  But she would always try to make it through as best she could.  OK, she had her tantrums now and then, but Spike was being ridiculous.

Faye itched to confront Spike about his wacky behaviour, but the last time she had done that... Colour suffused Faye's face as she fought down her rapidly increasing heartbeat.  Well.  The last time she had tried to coax him -- ok, _force_ him -- to tell her what the hell was going on, he'd...

Embarrassed even at her own train of thought, Faye forced her thoughts to stop as she stood up.  Sleep.  Sleep would wash away the ills of the evening--for a little while at least, and Faye could accept that.

She shuffled her way through the corridor to head towards her room, but as she did so, she cursed the fact that _his_ room came before hers.  Faye had so many questions, and she had a few confessions up her sleeve too.  She paused at his closed door and stared at it.

"Find anything interesting?"

Faye jumped, and whirled around to see Spike's half-lidded gaze.  He was still in his tuxedo shirt, and a couple of his top buttons undone.  His tie was off and stuffed into his pants pocket.  She also noted that his hair and face seemed slightly damp.  He'd gone to the washroom to wash his face...?

Faye put on her best irritated face. "I was going to my room.  Yours just happened to be in the way."

"_Right_," he said enigmatically.  Faye fumed.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

He lifted a brow. "I was just agreeing with you.  Chill."

He made a move to go around her, but she blocked his way.  His mouth straightened.

"Are you purposely trying to act like a bitch right now?  Because if you are, I'm not in the fucking mood," Spike snapped.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" Faye retorted.  Spike's expression darkened further.

"There... is _nothing_... wrong with me," he enunciated succintly. "Get out of the way."

"No," Faye said impulsively, thinking to hell with what happened in the past week.  She never got the answers she wanted the first time; there was no chance of their mistake ever repeating, so she might as well go for broke.

"No?" he repeated with disbelief, his nose flaring.

"Can you stop acting like a testosterone-pumped jackass?" Faye shouted. "We need to talk."

"About what?"  He was shifting his feet impatiently.

"Tonight, for starters!" Faye exclaimed, frustrated. "You've been having these... these weird _episodes_--"

He finally pushed her roughly away, interrupting her train of speech.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

He tried to slam the door on her face, but Faye was too quick, even with an injured ankle.  Spike didn't try to block the door so Faye was able to push it open easily after he let go of the door.  Spike threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," Faye said stubbornly.  She crossed her arms to illustrate her seriousness.  Spike rolled his eyes in response.

"Whatever," he muttered beneath his breath, and to Faye's surprise, started to unbutton his tuxedo shirt.  His movements were abrupt and pointed.  He kicked his shoes off.  Then off came his socks...

"What are you doing?"  Faye's resolve faltered slightly.

"Getting ready for bed, what do you think?" he retorted smartly, and discarded his shirt carelessly on the floor.  Faye stifled a gasp at the sight of his naked torso.  Had he no shame?  She saw him reach for his pants buttons.

"Stop it!" Faye protested. "You can't get undressed."

He ignored her request, and his pants pooled against his feet, leaving him in only his black boxers.  Ridiculously, Faye felt the need to turn around, but she suspected that was exactly what Spike wanted her to do.  He was trying to intimidate her to walk out of the room.  But that wasn't going to happen!

"Huh, you think this'll make me go away?" Faye said with more bravado than she actually had. "It's nothing I haven't seen before you know!"

"Spoken like a true whore!" Spike sneered, not even bothering to be subtle about his insults.  Faye's jaw dropped and his comment stung, but she wasn't about to rise to the bait.  He was obviously trying to piss her off enough to get her to leave him alone.

"I just want the truth, Spike," Faye sighed, trying to hang on to her own patience.  She hobbled over and leaned against his night stand.

"_Now_ what are you babbling about?" Spike grated.

"Tonight.  Was there really a bounty?  Was it fake?" she pressed.  Her question obviously surprised him, because it was evident on his face before he could mask it.

"Of course it isn't fake," Spike said, finally. "Did you really think I'd spend all that fucking time finding shit out if it was fake?  Did you think I would've come--"

He stopped, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.  "Back," was what he was going to say.  Faye looked away.

"Then who commissioned the bounty?" she asked, quietly.

"Did X tell you it was fake?" Spike replied, instead.  Faye didn't reply and he shook his head.  "Jesus, Faye."

"He said it was all a set up," Faye told him, her gaze returning onto his tense form.  He lifted his brow.

"A set up for _what?_"

"Me."

Again, that illicited a response from Spike in the form of his widening mis-matched eyes.  It gave Faye slight satisfaction that she was able to get him to react genuinely.

"You?"

"I..." Faye took a breath. "He... we were involved."  Yes.  _Involved_ was a great way of describing it. "A long time ago.  Very long time ago, in fact."

"You're telling me that he... he's your _ex-boyfriend?_" Spike's tone was incredulous.  Faye flashed him an irritated glance.

"Why, is that so insane an idea?"

"As a matter of fact, _yes,_" Spike retorted. "Do you know what kind of man he is, Faye?  If that fact wasn't so blatantly obvious already?"

"His syndicate ties?  I'm not an idiot," she snapped. "And you don't know the entire story.  It's... it's _complicated_."

Spike barked out a mirthless laugh.  She shook herself to clear the cobwebs in her mind and began rubbing her cold limbs.  The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped abruptly.  She sighed and continued.

"He told me that he'd been searching for me forever.  And that he'd set up this fake bounty once he heard a rumour that I was a bounty hunter.  He figured it'd be easier for me to come to him, than vice versa," she explained.

"Bullshit."

"I'm telling the truth!"

"No, I mean," Spike began to clarify, "His _story_ is bullshit.  And you're an _idiot _for believing a second of it!"

Faye's shackles immediately rose. "You don't understand."

"You are so _obvious _Faye," he said, coolly. "What did it take?  Did he offer to make you the main event at The Garden?"

Faye reared back slightly, insulted at Spike's conclusions and his tone. "Excuse me?  How was I supposed to know who to trust, Spike?  _How_?  You come back from _the dead_ three weeks ago with a bounty from nowhere that you refuse to explain its origins!"   He scowled at her.  She threw a hand in the air. "You don't tell us anything that happened to you in a _year_, and just expected us to go with you for this thing based on blind faith and previous history!"

"That has _nothing _to do with this--"

"--it has _everything_ to do with this!" Faye interrupted harshly. She closed her eyes, praying for calm. "Jet and I -- we went along with this entire mess!  And look where it landed us!  And you still won't even tell me where it's coming from.  When it came down to trusting Xander or trusting you, it wasn't exactly an easy decision to make!"

"Why would I lie, Faye?  What good would that do me?"

Faye's eyes fluttered open. "I don't know, you tell me."

Spike glared at her in disbelief.  "So you would actually even _consider_ the word of your ex-boyfriend before _mine_?"

"What was Julia to you, Spike?" Faye asked abruptly.  At the mention of his ex-lover, Spike flinched visibly and the frown that was creasing the corners of his mouth drooped even lower.

"Go fuck yourself."  He turned around and went underneath his covers, his back facing Faye.

Faye barked out a mirthless laugh. "You don't understand.  I was trying to explain something to you.  I was trying to explain Xander."  Faye's mouth twisted. "We had a history, Spike.  Xander and I.  Like I said, it was _complicated_.  I..." She paused. "I loved him."

Spike said nothing.  Faye didn't expect him to.

"Xander's from my past, Spike."

Still, he didn't move.  She continued to stare at his naked back.

"We've known each other since high school."

Spike's back tensed.  
  
***  
  
134... 135... 136... 137...

One hundred and thirty eight squares plastered the ceiling of the room Jet was in.  It hadn't been too bad at first, but by the time he'd finished singing 99 bottles of beer on the wall to himself, and trying to wriggle his way out of the shackles he was in, he was getting mighty bored.

After Kitty's stunning declaration, she left in a hurry, thinking possibly she said too much.  Jet hadn't been sure to believe her -- the claim was too far fetched -- but as he thought it over in his head... it was making some slight sense.

They had the same eyes.  She was about the right age.  She knew a lot about Appledelhi.  She _seemed_ concerned over Ed's welfare... What was harder to believe was that the young Mr. X was her brother, and thus Ed's uncle.  It was possible, of course, but the implications only meant danger for the plucky young genius.

Jet sighed and closed his eyes.  His position was mighty uncomfortable, but he figured he should just get some sleep.  He wondered what Faye and Spike were up to.  They'd better be thinking of something good, because at this state Jet couldn't do very much.  They were his last hope.

Which probably meant he was doomed.

He started thinking of his bonsai trees when the door opened again.

"Kitty?" Jet called, but the figure approaching him was anything but the sexy singer.

"No, Mr. Black," Mr. X drawled.  His hands were stuffed in his pockets  and he stood in a coolly casual way.  So comfortable.  So confident.

"Any chance you can let me out on good behaviour?" Jet asked dryly.

"Mm," Mr. X merely responded. "It appears there were a few things you've been hiding from us, Mr. Black.  If you'd simply told the truth, none of this would have been necessary.  I apologize for having to hit you and tie you down like this."

To Jet's surprise, Mr. X pulled out a hand from his pockets and dangled a key ring from his finger.  Jet blinked.  "You're... you're letting me go?"

"Yes," Mr. X replied, with a slight smile. "Though I do have a few _requests _before you leave."

Jet stiffened. "I don't work for syndicate scum."

Mr. X smile widened. "I'll let that slide for now, Mr. Black.  I can see how this situation would upset you.  At any rate, my requests are anything but criminal and I think are very reasonable."

"I don't work for syndicate scum," Jet repeated.  Mr. X's smile remained.  He merely shook his head.

"What if I allow you to see Edward one last time?"

Jet's eyes widened and he pulled against his restraints.  Mr. X laughed at his futile movements.

"Oh, don't be alarmed, Mr. X.  I wouldn't dream of harming my niece," Mr. X went on easily. "I merely meant that once you leave The Garden, I don't expect you to ever return.  After talking to my neice, she seems to have really fond memories of her time at The Bebop."

Jet frowned.  So now Mr. X knew who he was.

"But I don't think it's a good idea for your reunion to last longer than it should.  We both know that an unstable life in space as a bounty hunter is no way for a young girl to grow up.  Don't you agree?"

"And living in a syndicate is?  Ed is smarter and more capable than you think.  Why don't you give her the option?" Jet challenged.  Mr. X lifted a brow.

"We do not keep her here against her will, Mr. Black, if that is what you're trying to insinuate," Mr. X returned. "She loves her mother very much, and her mind is not kept at rest at The Garden.  She has many things to do."

"For a syndicate!"

Mr. X shrugged. "It was an option we gave her.  We can't ignore her mind.  She took the option.  She didn't have to."

Jet paled.  How can that be true?  What was Ed getting into?

"Don't look so shocked, Mr. Black.  We're not like other syndicates."

"A rose is a rose is a rose," Jet spat.

"Kitty informs me you used to be ISSP.  So I understand your reluctance to trust me.  I don't expect you to."  He cocked his head to the side. "But think about this.  Would any other syndicate spare your life?  Or your partners?  Would another syndicate be offering your release so easily?"

"You have ulterior motives!"

Mr. X chuckled lightly. "You do have me there, sir.  But I don't come here to make another enemy.  I have enough of those.  All I wish is for you to leave The Garden and never come back."

Jet narrowed his eyes. "You had more than one request."

"Yes."  Mr. X paused. "Will you pass a message to Faye for me?"

Jet blinked.  He wasn't expecting that. "Why?"

"Just tell her I'm sorry," Mr. X said, softly.  He leaned forward and cleared his throat. "So, Mr. Black, do you accept my terms?"

"I can't promise you anything," Jet said, honestly.  He knew if he was let go, he was definitely coming back.  Mr. X grinned, flashing perfectly straight teeth, then he leaned further to unlock one of Jet's wrists.  Jet shot him a look of surprise.

"If you had said anything else, it would have been a lie," Mr. X explained. "At any rate, I can't be held responsible for what happens if you and your... associate... Mr. Spiegel returns.  However, I was very serious about the message to Faye."

He walked down and unlocked Jet's ankle chains, and then walked around to unlock his last wrist chain.  Jet moaned slightly as he sat up, feeling stiff from the awkward position he had been in, and rubbed his wrists tiredly.

"If you follow me, I'll show you to Ed," Mr. X offered.

"Why are you doing this?" Jet asked, really wanting to know.  For a syndicate crime boss, he was being way too lenient.

"Because... it's the least that I can do," he replied, enigmatically.  He opened the door of the room as Jet got up from the bed.  He did a couple of stretches.

Mr. X motioned him over. "Come.  Ed is waiting."

Jet walked carefully towards him, still distrustful, but excited at the prospect of seeing his long lost Ed.  
  
***  
  


Author's note: OK, so this chapter was more of a transitional chapter than an action-packed one.  I tried to add a little more Faye/Spike interaction, and insight to what may have happened in the last week, and some of the character's thoughts.  
  
I hope you continue reading!  I'll try to make the next chapter a little more interesting.  ;-)  Ed will finally enter the scene!  Wheee!  There's a little more surprises in store.


	6. Ch 7

**Maybe Another Lifetime  
by Reia   
rawr@lealea.net  
  
  
***  
  
Disclaimer: **Cowboy Bebop. Not. Mine. Don't. Sue. Thanks.

**Summary: **Sex, violence, and drama. Old flames, old friends... it all comes together. Cats have nine lives. How many more left?

**Author's note: **Damn, why is it when I read other great fanfics, I start to think my fanfic completely sucks? Lady Razorsharp, Teresa, Brigidforest, Cassandra, Red Tenko and Sidewalk Serfer Girl all put me to shame. 3 (hint: read their fanfics) LOL. Oh, well, I'll try harder and harder to get this story through. In this fanfic, I'm using a lot of knowledge I'd gleaned from watching too much Godfather movies, Sopranos, and Road to Perdition. Actually, those three items were one of the main inspirations to Maybe Another Lifetime. Wheee! Um… hint?

**Credit: **_The Truth _is by Moloko and Handsome Boys Modeling School. You have to listen to this song, for maximum enjoyment of this chapter! _How Much is that Doggy in the Window_ is by Patti Page.

Faydra is a Greek-origin name which means "bright one" and Athanase is also in old-Greek meaning "immortal." Piao Liang means "beautiful" in Chinese. Most of these meanings are found from online dictionaries or from genealogy links. I don't claim to know any of the language. Heh.

  
***** **

  
**Chapter 7 – The Truth Is All There Is**

Spike was giving her that _look_ again. That trademark piercing look where he said absolutely nothing and his eyes didn't move and he barely blinked. The look which _always_ made her nervous. His real eye would darken enough to match his mechanical one, and it unnerved Faye. There was always something slightly off-balance with Spike, so whenever his eyes began to _match_, it literally spooked Faye.

Though his state of undress and the setting of their conversation was doing no favours for her sanity on top of _that – _half from being fascinated by that long scar across his stomach, half from simple attraction – she was determined to speak to him. She _needed_ to tell him this. To tell him about her past. To tell him the truth.

She had somehow made her way to the foot of his bed, sitting cross legged and only turned slightly towards him. This was the first time she'd been on his bed – hell, his _bedroom_ – since _that night_. She could not sit facing him straight on, when he was giving her that look. He was leaning forward against his raised knees, his hand covering his mouth as if he had to physically stem himself from saying anything out of line.

"When I started to remember my past," Faye began finally, her voice sounding strange to her own ears, "It didn't come all at once. I just remembered bits and pieces here and there. Jet sort of helped me out at the beginning by piecing together the clues. Went jaunting about Earth for a bit. Funny, we never ran into Ed at any of those times," she added as an afterthought. She shrugged. "Anyway, the big break came when I remembered my full name."

Again, Spike didn't have to say anything. She sensed the question in his now-matching eyes.

"Faydra Piao Liang Athanase," she said lyrically, imitating Edward. They sounded like words from a faraway language to Faye. "Sounds strange, huh?"

"Definitely longer than Faye Valentine. The jury's still out whether it sounds less cheesy or not," Spike said, but there was no malice in his voice.

"Like you could talk _Spike Spiegel_," Faye snorted. His brows merely lifted slightly in that mocking way of his.

"So what does it mean?" he asked.

"My name?" Faye shrugged. "It's half Chinese, half Greek. My mother was originally from Singapore. Dad was born in America, but he had Greek parents. Long story short, when you combine all the words of my name, it describes a goddess..."

"Doesn't suit you." The tips of his lips quirked ever so slightly.

"I think this body of mine begs to differ," Faye retorted merrily, with some conceit. She began to relax a little, and so did Spike as his eyes began to flicker. Brown, red, brown, red. She thought bringing up the past would be painful, as it had been before, but she may be finally getting used to the idea that she did have a previous life.

She bit her lip, wondering how else to continue. Third person seemed best. It was odd to Faye that the woman she was talking about was herself_._ She wondered what Spike was thinking at the moment. Unfortunately, his face was unreadable as always. He looked interested in what she was about to say, but other than that, nothing...

"Anyway, Faydra Piao Liang Athanase was a nice college girl on her way to earn her Biology degree to become a doctor, in the field of advanced medicine," Faye revealed. She still had mixed feelings about uncovering that part of her past. On one hand, it made her feel accomplished. On the other, she realized how much she had lost. She could have been a _doctor_, as opposed to a vagabond in space. "She was generally mild-mannered, but very passionate about her work. She won a summer internship scholarship at NASA to work with their personnel on how space travel and colonization affects a human's physiology. She was part of a team of other specialists and scientists to board ship Discovery 933A en route to space. And then she was never heard from again."

"The gate incident," Spike said. It wasn't a question. Just a statement of fact.

Faye nodded once.

"So you're a doctor?" Spike could not shield his surprised expression.

Faye shrugged. "Not really. I was just an over-achieving undergrad student then. But I guess that's how I automatically knew how to assess and handle injuries when I... woke up here. I feel really stupid though, because I also studied Medical Law at the time. If I had known what I knew _then_, then I would've gotten rid of my ridiculous hospital bill almost immediately."

"How's that?" Spike leaned back against the headboard, looking a tad amazed.

"Immediately after I remembered more about my past, I did some very quick research about current medical practice laws. Anyway, I got myself a fancy lawyer, threatened to sue the hospital for malpractice and insurance fraud, and they couldn't get rid of my debt fast enough. I even threatened to rat them out to the ISSP so they could have a bounty on their head, and then I'd have the pleasure of throwing them in jail." Faye laughed bitterly. "But, they pretty much complied with all my demands and _voila_. One less financial burden to worry about."

Spike's brows raised heavenward. "So you're telling me you've been debt-free for that long?"

"Well, _that_ debt at least," Faye said, wryly. Spike tilted his head, his eyes changing color, and it was starting to match again. Faye knew what he was wondering. He was probably wondering why she stayed on the Bebop when she found out about her past and was financially able to start off on her own.

Instead, Spike's next question was more pertinent to the situation at hand. He ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "So how does Faydra Piao Liang Athanase, a mild-mannered student with a bright future, get involved with a syndicate?"

Spike seemed mildly amused if a tad bewildered, at the information she had given him so far. Faye sighed, already dreading to retell the story. "Like I said, it's a little complicated."

"We've got all night."

***

Jet was led down a long, circular corridor and he was beginning to realize that the secret sections of the Garden were enclosed in circles. There were absolutely no sharp angles.

"No corners," Jet murmured softly, unaware of Xander's sharp hearing. Jet heard Xander chuckle in front of him, and he didn't miss a step as he flicked a glance behind where Jet was.

"No corners for the Devil to hide," Xander explained. Jet smirked slightly. Of course. Not in the Garden of Eden.

"I wouldn't have taken you for a religious man," Jet said, as they continued on what seemed to be an infinite hallway. They passed several doors, each nondescript as the next. He felt like he was in a cold hospital, unlike the comfortable confines of the plush bedrooms in the accessible part of the Garden.

"I may not go to church," Xander acknowledged, "But I have the fear of God in me everyday."

Jet's brows lifted at his last sentence, but Xander didn't bother to elaborate. Finally, after a seemingly endless journey, they stopped in front of one of the nondescript doors. Xander placed his hand on a hand scanner by the door. After it finished, there was a click and the door swished open. A sudden feeling of trepidation hit Jet. Maybe Xander wasn't leading him to Ed at all, but some kind of trap! Or maybe he was just nervous about meeting Ed again. Would she be exactly the same? Completely different? Happy to see him? Or worse, indifferent?

However, the door swished behind him with finality, and Jet had to face whatever it was in front of him head on. He took a deep breath and scanned the giant room in front of him. The room was dark except for a dull purple glow ahead of him. As he moved further into the room, he realised the purple glow came from a giant computer screen that seemed to take up the entire room. The ceiling was high so it was massive indeed. Next to that screen were even more LCD monitors hooked up beside it and three keyboards on a curving table.

After Jet was finished fixating on the massive computer in front of him, he realised the room itself was vast and had other corridors with more machines in them, each with little blinking lights. He took one more step and paused in his tracks as an odd sound reached his ears. It was...

...humming?

"She's got to be here somewhere," Xander told him quietly. "She likes to hide sometimes."

"Shh," Jet said, raising his hand. Xander lifted a brow but said nothing. Jet stepped forward. And then another step. Then another.

"_How muuuuuuuuuch is that doggy in the windoooooow?"_

Jet's breath hitched, as a couple of soft barks followed the gently sung tune.

"_The one with the wa-gg-ley taiiiiiiil! _Come on, Ein!"

A couple of short barks followed the lilting command. "_How muuuuuch is that doggie in the windooooow?"_

Jet rounded behind the giant computer and into the rows of machines. There, he saw a shocking head of red, illuminated by the other smaller computer screens by the machines. Her back was towards him, and she was sitting on the cold floor but didn't seem to mind it. He didn't recognize the clothes she was wearing, but there was no mistake--

"_I do hope that doggie's for saaaaaaale!" _the small impish girl concluded, lifting her hands in the air, and then hugging the Welsh Corgi in front of her. She giggled delightfully.

-- it was Ed.

The dog noticed Jet's presence first, as his ears perked up and his head cocked to the side. Jet could almost swear that he saw surprise in the purebred's face as recognition dawned. A rush of emotion pummelled Jet, and suddenly, he forgot where he was, what situation he was in. He forgot Mr. X's presence. He forgot everything.

All he knew was that he'd found his little girl.

A lone tear streaked down his face, as he found himself speechless. The dog seemed to hesitate a fraction of a second before tearing away from the girl's gangly, but strong grip. She gasped and whirled around, the dog's names on her lips dying as she saw where Ein had bounded towards.

Jet froze, as their gazes locked. Her face had... changed. It still looked like Ed, but her features were becoming more defined. She looked more like a girl than she had a year before. Jet didn't know what to think. He scrambled for something to say. Anything.

Ed slowly stood up, her wide gaze not breaking his. He quickly scanned her head to toe. She was still wearing t-shirt and shorts, but the white t-shirt was smaller on her frame, and her orange shorts were looser and wider, with half of her black suspenders off her shoulder, and the other half hanging on her other shoulder. It made her build seem more slight, if anything. It was still tomboyish, but more feminine as well, just like her face. Her hair hadn't changed – still as wild and red as ever, but some tips seemed to be tinged in... pink?

"H-Hey," he said, finally. He cleared his throat. "Hey, kid."

All of a sudden, her face broke into a grin and her arms threw wide open. In one giant leap, the strange girl threw herself onto Jet, and swung around his neck.

"Jet-person!"

***

Smoke billowed out of Spike's lips as he settled against the worn seat of the Swordfish, still in the Bebop's hangar. Sleep eluded the bounty hunter after Faye had finished her story. He was damn tired; he wondered if he would ever get a good night's sleep. When _had_ been the last time he slept...?

To work off his remaining energy, he'd thrown some clothes on and headed towards his trusty Swordfish with all the intentions of flying off – nowhere, anywhere, just _off_. But he only found himself smoking a stray Marlboro found in his glove compartment and mulling the brand new information he had in his head. He turned his radio on the oldies station, and it crackled with savvy early 21st century music:

"_Go ...  
Go to the mountain if you must  
Go to the burning bush  
Happy would ease your troubled mind  
I would prefer to stay behind..."_

He was shocked over Faye's revelations; they had been detailed. He figured it was mostly because she had longed to say something to someone – _anyone – _who was willing to listen about her past, and so she told her entire story. He had felt inclined to interrupt her several times, but also found he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

He also found himself _caring_ about what she had to say. For the first time, he saw Faye the woman, as opposed to Faye the _romani._ She had roots. She had family, people who loved her, and she was intelligent and ambitious. She had a wonderful past. She _used_ to have a bright future. To have that stripped away by mere fate was the cruelest thing he'd ever heard – even more cruel than his own troubled life.

For the first time, he saw Faye's true strength. He marveled at her tenacity. If the situations were reversed, he wondered if he would have been able to continue living so strongly as Faye had. For the first time, Spike felt like he was actually beginning to understand the puzzle that way Faye Valentine. Scratch. Faydra Piao Liang Athanase. The name was odd to him: it didn't seem to fit Faye, but at the same time, it did. It seemed to explain everything and nothing at all. A living paradox, she was.

This certainly did put an interesting spin on the entire situation. Spike knew that Faye could no longer be involved – it would be too dangerous, and she had too much at stake for her. He himself knew the consequences of letting business mix with pleasure. All too well.

With Jet captured and Faye a liability, and possibly even Ed in the picture, Spike knew that he could only truly rely on himself now. And oddly enough, Spike was a little pissed about that. The reason he _returned_ to the Bebop in the first place was to avoid having to have to carry this mission out on his own. He didn't really want to admit it, but he had _needed_ them.

_Trust no one but your enemy. Only friends and loved ones can betray you_, his surrogate father Mao Yenrai told him, once upon a time. Mao told him many things throughout the years, and Spike had carelessly brushed a lot of them off. But now, this one piece of advice seemed to haunt him every single day.

Though, Spike reflected, it was hardly Faye's fault that Mr. X turned out to be her, well... ex. How would she have known that he was alive after all those years? How could any of them have guessed any of the events that occurred the past three weeks? Hell, he still couldn't get over the fact he had _actually_ slept with Faye, as opposed to it being some strange and confusing dream. Nightmare. Whatever.

And he still couldn't get himself to forget...

At any rate, Spike had yet to meet an overweight soprano. There was still one last ace -- the one outlet he had neglected to contact during this chaos. If it wasn't for all the insisted secrecy, and if he hadn't been caught off-guard, perhaps none of the three weeks would have happened. 

Spike turned the Swordfish's engine on, pausing as he let his machine's hum wash over him. God, he was tired... He strapped himself securely in his aircraft. As he leaned forward, he cranked up the volume to of his radio and let the song go full blast:

"_And the truth is you can't hide from the truth  
And the truth hurts because the truth is all there is  
I realized some time ago that I would have to let you go  
  
May not be true to see that you would return one day  
But in your present state you may as well not be here at all  
You wear a thin disguise, it's from yourself you hide  
Just take a look at us, we are heading for a fall"_

It was time to pay a visit to the person who approached Spike with the bounty.

***

Faye knew he was gone the moment she woke up. She expected as much, and he didn't disappoint. Still, as she padded barefoot across the Bebop, she wanted so much to be proven wrong. She checked the kitchen, the yellow couch, and finally, the hangar. Nothing.

She leaned against the doorway of the hangar, rubbing her hands along her arms. 

"Bastard," she said, but without much passion. She shivered slightly, half from the morning cold. She turned back inside the Bebop and sighed deeply, trying to collect her muddled thoughts.

She wondered if Spike was just gone for a quick jaunt, or if he was gone for good again. She wasn't sure. Spike had appeared to be a little shaken from all her talking – though he did not bother to interrupt her at all. He'd been giving her odd looks the entire evening. Some of them she recognized – pity, confusion, surprise – and then there were those times where his eyes would match, and God knew what the hell he was thinking then.

She didn't mean to tell him so much the previous night. She meant to just give him a little bit of background information before getting to the point; in the end, the background information _became_ the point. She figured it was the first time Spike actually took the time to listen to her, and she took advantage of the fact. She relished in it.

Faye had known for a long time of her feelings about Spike. It was much easier coping with it when she believed him dead. While he was alive, and back in her life, her affection for him was almost driving her mad. When he came back, she had vowed to herself not to be affected this time around, but it was a futile effort. How could you stop loving a person a second time, when you didn't stop loving him the first time?

She wasn't really inherently masochistic, but loving Spike was emotional suicide. She was so sure he thought nothing but poor thoughts about her; but last night he gave her a chance so she took it. But she also knew that nothing she could do could ever change the fact that Spike loved and will always love his memory of Julia.

How could you win against a ghost?

To be fair, she knew that if Spike had stayed deceased, she probably would have continued loving him anyway, much like Spike continued loving Julia. Though, she had been determined to move on romantically, and that she thought it possible to fall in love again. When she had fallen for Xander all those innocent years ago, she had truly and deeply loved him. If she hadn't lost her memory, she was sure she would have pined for Xander for a long time and she wouldn't have thought about Spike romantically at all. At least, not be aware of her feelings for him, being too wrapped up with her memory of Xander.

There were so many "what ifs" it was making Faye's head reel. But now Xander was back in her life: impossibly alive like she and Spike were. Forcing her to make decisions she didn't want to make. Making her feel emotions she didn't want to feel.

"_You feel it too, don't you?"_

"_Feel... feel what?"_

"_Us."_

Faye shivered again, grimacing. _Men_.

She sat down on the aging yellow couch, and looked around the empty room. What was she still doing here? What was she going to do? How was she going to help Jet by herself? Faye burried her face in her hands when she heard a sudden noise in the ship.

_Spike!_ Faye's heartbeat sped up, without warning, and she whirled around, unable to mask the pleasure of seeing him back on the ship. That he hadn't abandoned them – again – after all!

However, as the heavy steps grew closer, the pleasure melted away to reveal only shock and disbelief. Faye stumbled back, her jaw hanging loose at the sight before her.

"Where is he?" he growled angrily. "I'm going to _kill_ that son of a bitch!"

Faye blinked rapidly, her heart lodged in her throat. She was sure she was going to have a premature heart attack at twenty-four years old at the rate things were going. Her mouth opened and closed, not unlike a fish.

"Faye?" he demanded sharply.

"I-I... Jet!" Faye got out, instead. She stared at the older bounty hunter – who was not wearing his tux but some other type of suit – confused and disoriented. "Who-- what--?" Faye sucked in a breath and shouted, "How the hell did you escape?!"

"Where's Spike!?" Jet went on, ignoring Faye's glare.

"I don't know! Wherever!" Faye exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "I woke up this morning and he was _gone_, okay?"

Jet fell silent and his eyes narrowed on Faye's pale face. He punched his palm with his fist and murmured, "Shit, when I get my _hands_ on him, there's going to be hell to pay!"

"How'd you get here?"

"I got dropped off," Jet told her, as he shrugged out of his new jacket. Faye's eyes rounded.

"What happened?"

"You have to go back, Faye," Jet told her instead, his gaze serious. "I can't go near that place."

"Why not?" Faye was incredulous.

"I made a promise."

"What!"

"I got to see Ed," Jet said, his voice steady but his expression faltering slightly. He said it casually, but Faye knew how much seeing the girl meant to him. She waited as he struggled to form his next words. "And in return, I was told to leave and never return."

Faye stepped back, running her hand through her hair in a nervous gesture. "How... how was she?"

Jet's smile was strained. "Good. She was... she was good."

"Oh, Jet." Faye bit her lip as she saw his expression. She looked away. "There's too much at stake."

"I know."

"Xander and I have a history, Jet."

"I know."

Faye turned her gaze back at Jet. "What did he tell you?"

Jet shrugged. "Nothing. He just told me to tell you he's sorry." Faye swallowed as Jet went on, "It was just obvious from the things that went on that you two knew each other." Jet shook his head. "Dammit, Faye."

Faye lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's a long story."

"We can't just leave this alone," Jet said. "It's not about the money anymore."

"It's always been about the money!" Faye protested, cynically. "Always, don't you see?"

"If you really think that, then you're in deeper denial than I thought," Jet said, quietly. Faye sighed, pacing across the room.

"So what now?" Faye said, finally.

Jet rubbed his face tiredly. "Now, we plan."

***

Since recovering from his injuries, Spike had travelled to all places around the universe. Exotic places. Places to unwind. Places to party. Places to think. Though, the one place he made effort to avoid was the desert. What did the desert offer except unbearable heat, death or poverty? Only the loonies or unfortunates lived or trekked down a desert, and Spike wondered which of the groups he belonged in as he eased his Swordfish a mile away from his destination, on a desert in Venus.

He purposely parked a mile away in the middle of nowhere so he wouldn't be detected. Also, a walk wouldn't be bad for him; he hadn't exercised in the past few days being preoccupied with other matters. It gave him time to reflect on the past events and how to speak to this person he was confronting. They had agreed earlier on to not contact each other until the job was finished; emergency or no emergency. This was of utmost importance. If the job could not be done, they just simply would never speak to each other again. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. Spike never considered himself an honorable man, anyway. Spike smirked.

He paused as he reached the lone trailer in the sand. Should he be polite and knock? Or should he just barge right in? However, his question was answered for him as the door of the trailer swung open and the person in front of him gasped in surprise.

"M-Mr. Spiegel?" the woman breathed, her voice barely audible.

Spike shoved his hands in his pockets, and he tilted his head to get a nice look at the person who put up the bounty.

"Hello, Stella."

***

Author's Note: _Dun dun duuuuuuun!_ :-) Hee hee! What do you guys think? Please review. It really does motivate me to write more. Constructive criticism is also wonderful and appreciated! Thank you so much! I'm going to go through what Faye told Spike, and what happened during the reunion with Ed in the next chapter. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all!

  
  


  
  


  
  


  


  
  



	7. Ch 8

Chapter 8 - Bring Me To Life

_Three Months Ago…_

The sharp rapping on his door was seemingly endless. Spike growled low on his throat, burying his face deeper into the thin expanse of the blanket he was sprawled on - before finally exhaling roughly. The rapping continued. When could a decent person get some sleep here?

He jumped up irritably, realizing that the rapping was not going to stop until he answered the door. Without his usual care, he simply threw the door open and barked, "What?"

Dark eyes looked up and said flatly, "Afternoon, boss."

Spike sighed, opening the door wider to let his overeager colleague into his rundown apartment. It wasn't a bad place to stay per se, as it had all one needed in 500 square feet of space, with its kitchenette, tiny but complete bath, and a comfortable sofa bed which he spent a majority of time in. Still, whenever Shin showed up, all dressed up prim and proper in Armani, he felt like a homeless refugee. He was in nothing but his workout pants and torn white t-shirt. In his defence, he _had_ been working out before he'd tried to nap, but he'd been too lazy to shower and change.

"What do you want?"

"You should just attend the meetings yourself," Shin said reproachfully, pulling out a slim manila folder out of his briefcase. "I'm not your secretary, you know."

"But you're so much prettier and smarter than me," Spike said easily. "Besides, I'm supposed to be dead, remember?"

Shin rolled his eyes. "The same way I'm supposed to be dead."

Details, details. He waved dismissively at the file folder as Shin tried to hand it to him. "You really shouldn't bother me with this shit anymore. I'm done with this. You can handle the rest."

The younger man's lips thinned with displeasure. "_You_ are the rightful leader of the Red Dragons, whether you like it or not."

Details, details.

"Everyone think _you're _the leader. I'm not taking that folder," Spike said finally, placing his hands decisively into his pockets when Shin continued to push it towards him. Shin ground out a sigh and finally flipped the folder open.

"Sales of red eye have dropped at least 40% since the closure of key manufacturing channels," Shin reported, much to Spike's chagrin. Well, he wasn't adverse to the news itself - in fact, he was privately thrilled his personal pet project was going so well - but he didn't want to be treated like a syndicate boss, let alone anyone's boss.

"Shin-"

"Though a few… sectors… have shown reluctance with the closures or have been in talks with other manufacturing channels, namely through the White Tiger organization. We've taken pre-emptive precautions to help control the situation."

Spike's lips twitched. Shin was all business and for whatever reason, found it distasteful to spell things out as they were: a few key personnel were probably ordered to put a bullet through any resistance.

"So it looks like you've got things under control. See? Who needs me?" Spike said cheerfully, while simultaneously leading Shin back towards the door.

"The White Tiger situation could get bad real quick," Shin said, though he was letting Spike lead him back to the door.

Spike nodded nonchalantly. "I'm sure you can handle that, too."

"They also went through some sort of coup recently. No one knows what's going on, to be frank," Shin continued. "No one's talking. No one knows who's leader now."

Spike was losing patience fast. "Shin. Enough. I don't know how many more ways I can tell you I don't give a fuck. If you want to come here and ask me if I want to grab a beer, I'd be more than happy to. But if you want to talk business… you can screw yourself. I'll provide lube if needed."

Spike opened his door and ushered a scowling Shin over the threshold. Before Spike could gleefully slam the door on his face, Shin slammed his palm on the door. "Wait! I forgot something. A woman came to the bar."

"The bar" was an old Red Dragon hangout called the Thirsty Turtle, and where most of the remaining stragglers of what he considered a quickly irrelevant group, had their meetings. He refused to attend partly because he didn't want anything more to do with his Dragon ties, but mostly because it was right across the street from Annie's convenience store.

He never planned to walk that street ever again.

Despite himself, Spike opened the door a tiny crack more. "What woman?"

"Stella Bonnaro."

.

.

.

_Present..._

"I was expecting you, but not so soon."

Stella sat across from him in the surprisingly spacious kitchen in the trailer, nursing her tea. After letting him in and making them both tea, she didn't need any prompting from Spike to begin.

"Really?"

Stella nodded, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "He told me I can tell you the whole story now."

At that, Spike lifted a brow. Stella seemed rather quietly pleased with herself. Spike wasn't really upset about this, just annoyed that he had completely swallowed her story. He'd assumed that if she had been willing to gate jump to another planet, and then brave syndicate territory, and essentially risk her life - no one but the top level Dragons knew he was even alive - just to seek him out, that she had no reason to lie about the bounty, about her intentions.

He hadn't been even _that_ trusting. His people had run a background check on Stella's plea and her story had checked out: she was the chair of the Rocco Bonnaro Foundation, a non-profit organization that was lobbying for government intervention and subsidies regarding the growth and distribution of Grey Ash. They had run on hard times because the growing awareness of the seriousness of the disease and how easily it could be treated with access to the cure, cut into the black market for the plant. Soon, the foundation was under attack from unknown criminal sources, and Stella had been forced to flee back to the desert for her own protection.

She'd desperately contacted Spike because she felt he would be the only one able to help and that the lives of those that worked in the foundation were in danger. She'd claimed that she received a mysterious phone call from someone who was willing to take care of her issues if a certain Mr. X was found, and that she should employ the best bounty hunter to find him.

And the only bounty hunter Stella knew was Spike.

There were no further details given, except that the bounty was an eye-whopping 300 million woolongs. Stella claimed she hadn't bothered to ask any more details about Mr. X, as she didn't want to know more for fear that the knowledge would bite her back somehow.

"So the entire sob story about your foundation was just a ruse?" Spike asked flatly.

Stella's smile left her face and she regarded him soberly. "No, Mr. Spiegel. This was all about the foundation. That part of this missions was entirely true. I don't really care about my own future as much as the lives of those in the foundation, and the children that are part of the program."

"You've taken a lot of risks to get to this point, Stella."

She looked at him quietly. "My brother didn't give his life up in vain. He died trying to help me and I'm willing to do the same for others."

Spike scoffed a little, but didn't doubt the sincerity in her tone. "Fine. You were looking after you and yours. So what were the lies?"

"I did get a phone call out of the blue, that was also true. I don't actually own a communicator over here. Someone planted one in my purse - I have no idea what the number to it is, and I haven't tried to call out of it. I also still have no idea who he really is, everything was garbled in the communicator. He also did tell me he'd fix… our issues… but to find not just any bounty hunter, but you, specifically. He assured me that he didn't have any… violent… plans for you, or for anyone else for that matter. If he had, then I would never have tried to involve you. Please believe me."

He scowled at Stella. Maybe she really was that naive. She had been about her brother. "So this guy, the bounty benefactor, was after me all along."

She smiled a little at that. "Almost right. He told me he was after his woman."

Spike's brows knitted. "What?"

"Apparently, he's been looking for your colleague, Ms. Valentine, for a long time and she has proven elusive."

Spike's frown deepened, and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. That was the same load of crap X had told Faye. He didn't need to have it spelled out any more. The benefactor was Mr. X all along. He'd been running some type of intricate con game. Still, while things were beginning to add up, it still didn't make a whole lot of sense.

For one thing, Faye was one of the easiest women to find. Her debt collectors must be idiots, because it took him all of one day to find her before he even found the Bebop. Jet at least knew how to cover his tracks. Faye, on the other hand, had the grace and subtlety of a bullhorn. She was easy to find if you knew where to look: the seedier the bar, the more likely she was in there.

Something else was going on, but it was clear Stella didn't know much more. He shook his head and gave the formerly blind woman a reproachful look.

"Now, even though you've regained your visual sense, it seems to have sapped your common sense," he said wryly and watched the young woman flinch slightly. "You're dealing with syndicate scum here. The same type of people that murdered your brother. You need to be more careful. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into."

She flashed him a small, sad smile. "Maybe. I'll be the first to admit I can be too trusting. But if anything, Mr. X… he's fulfilled his end of the bargain thus far. When we last spoke, he told me that a hefty donation has been made anonymously to the foundation, and he's sent men to guard and watch all those involved with the foundation. Our operations director came by recently to confirm all of this. We haven't had our headquarters vandalized in the past couple of weeks, and so far, no more 'random' accidents on our volunteers."

Spike absorbed this information suspiciously. It sounded too good to be true. There was still something wrong about this whole operation, but it looked like he reached the end of Stella's knowledge. He nodded and got up. "All right. I've got enough to chew on for a bit. I'd like to take a look at that planted communicator. See if that gives us a few more leads."

Stella stood up and went to a kitchen drawer to fetch it. She handed it over to Spike without hesitation.

"I would normally say thank you, but it's a bit inappropriate since you've been lying to me all this time," Spike said, as he tucked the communicator into a jacket pocket.

"Partially," she amended, gently.

Spike sighed deeply. "Stella, be careful. I'm serious. You're entirely too trusting."

She lifted mournfully dark eyes at him. It felt strange, since he had met her while she had been blind, and her gaze was now different. Focused. But, somehow, infinitely sadder.

"I know I'm deluding myself at times. But, I allow myself that little bit of fantasy. It makes the world a bit easier to bare, don't you think?"

.

.

.

Faye pounded on the infernal laptop in frustration. Jet, who was hovering beside her, grasped her arm gently.

"Whoa, whoa. That thing cost me a tiny fortune," Jet admonished. "Can you tone down the violence until we actually get some information?"

Faye pouted, waving at the screen. "This thing is a piece of shit. You can't find anything with this." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Never thought I'd say this, but I wish the kid was here."

She was a smart woman, but she was nowhere close to being a tech expert, and they've been poring over various information channels to find out what was going on at The Garden. So far, nothing had come up expect the same superficial information they'd collected when preparing for the bounty.

Jet sighed, reading the headlines that scrolled across the screen. It was all familiar, superficial things. While Faye was poring over the networks for information, he'd spoken to a few ISSP contacts, trying to connect the dots.

"So did you find out anything?" Faye asked wearily. Jet shrugged.

"Maybe. Apparently, syndicate activity seems to be spiking throughout the galaxy. I wasn't surprised to hear that the Red Dragons were scrambling, as we all know that story, but apparently, so are the White Tigers. Rumor has it there's been a violent upheaval there and some no name took over. In the meantime, someone's been shutting down their main sources of income with the drug trade. So, with the shut down there hasn't been much syndicate activity, but at the same time, it looks like not everyone is going down without a fight. Activity has been sporadic at best."

Faye's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Xander is part of a syndicate. Do you think he's involved with that?"

Jet frowned. "There are tiny little wannabe gangs here, but the White Tigers call Venus their headquarters. X was not playing around at The Garden. He's dealing with something big. Do you think…?"

Faye stifled a groan as she rubbed her tired eyes again. "That Xander is the fabled new ring leader of the White Tigers? Yes."

Jet's back straightened. "But what does all of that have to do with us?"

Faye rubbed her temples. "Maybe he was telling the truth."

"What are you talking about?"

"Xander said he'd been looking for me. He's… he's like me, Jet. We're both from the past, he was frozen like me. He was, uh, my high school boyfriend." Jet, who normally was able to control his reactions, couldn't help but start a little from this revelation. Faye went on, her face red. "He told me that… he remembered everything just a couple months ago. That he's been looking for pieces of who he was from back then. And he works at a casino. Every casino knows Poker Alice," she said with a hint of pride. "Apparently, he put two and two together and knew it was me."

"I still don't get it. Why go through all this trouble and bring Spike - bring all of _us_ into it?"

Faye sighed. "His identity is supposed to be a secret. So he couldn't just go out and say 'Hey, Faye, remember me?' He said it was probably safer to have me find him. And said something about killing two birds with one stone, whatever that means."

"That still doesn't explain why he involved Spike, who as far as everyone but us knows, is supposed to be dead. Why not just, I don't know, have the bounty go straight to us?"

Faye threw her hands in the air, completely frustrated. "That's the part I don't get. Even if he wanted it privately, he could have sent some lackey or something to relay the bounty to us."

"Hm, that being said, that would have made a more direct connection to his identity," Jet returned. "We would've probably pounded some information out of that said lackey."

Faye smiled faintly at that. "Sure. Maybe. I don't know." She shut her eyes tightly. "My brain's exploding. I don't know what to do."

"Maybe nothing."

Faye's eyes flew open. "What do you mean?"

Jet shrugged. "There's no bounty. He found you. You know where he is now. As far as I can tell, Ed and Ein are doing fine. Ed's, um… Ed's related to X."

Faye frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jet scratched the back of his head. "She's his niece."

Faye scoffed. "That's impossible."

"Why's that?"

"For one thing, he's supposed to be eighty-some years old. He had two older brothers, none of which had any kids back then. And if they did later, that kid, that niece would be the same age as you or Spike."

Jet's expression darkened. "He said Kitty was his sister."

Faye shook her head violently. "Impossible. He didn't have any sisters. And if he did, she'd be eighty or whatever!"

Very rarely did Jet actually throw a fit on the Bebop. It was usually Spike or Faye that loved to shout and throw things around, but at that moment, Jet let out a giant:

"FUCK!"

A footstep caused both Faye and Jet to whirl towards the sound, and Spike blinked at the scene before him: Jet with his hands pulling out the remnants of his hair and Faye sitting unladylike over a laptop with a dumbfounded expression.

All three of them stared at each other silently for a beat before Faye broke the silence.

"Where the hell were you?" Faye meant to sound really indignant, but instead it came out tired and concerned. Spike flicked her a glance before pulling out a communicator from his jacket pocket.

"Remember Stella Bonnaro?" he said. He tossed the communicator to Jet who looked at the communicator curiously. Spike pulled out his crushed pack of Marlboro Reds next, taking out a slim, if slightly crooked stick. Faye eyed it enviously. A smoke would be great right about now.

"The blind girl?" Jet asked.

Spike still hadn't lit his smoke and waved it between his fingers. "She was sort of behind the bounty, but not really. I paid her a visit, asked some questions." He popped the smoke in his mouth with one hand as he simultaneously reached for his lighter. He nodded towards Faye's direction. "Stella corroborated Faye's story about X wanting to find her. Convoluted, but it seems legit."

"So what does the blind girl have to do with any of this?" Faye asked.

"Well, first of all, she's no longer blind. Next, she happens to chair a foundation that's trying to help people like her get access to the cure for Venus sickness. Not everyone's really happy about that so she got into trouble with a syndicate, has been hiding out in the desert. Someone phoned her up one day, using that," Spike nodded at the communicator Jet was examining, "and said that all her troubles would go away if only she could get yours truly to bag a bounty. So, I'll give you a guess who phoned her up."

"Xander…" Faye whispered.

Spike lit his smoke and took a deep drag. "Give the woman a prize. The only thing that I don't really get is why he would go through all this trouble to find you. You aren't really Ms. Subtlety."

"Two birds with one stone," Jet said suddenly. "The syndicate activity." Spike looked at Jet expectantly who quickly explained what he'd heard from his ISSP contacts. Jet continued, "There's been some strange drop off with the drug trade. Sales of red eye have been sliced. The black market trade of Grey Ash has also gone down, too. Do you think he's responsible for those drop offs? I have no idea why he'd be backing off such lucrative business but if he was serious about helping Stella with the foundation _and_ finding Faye, there's your two birds. The last thing that doesn't make sense is why would he have specifically asked for _Spike_? I could have easily led him to Faye, as well."

Spike shifted in stance a little, but enough for Faye's sharp eyes to notice. Well, it wasn't that she was really that observant but the fact that everything related to Spike, her senses were on high alert. "Is there something you've neglected to tell us?"

Spike shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

At that, Jet's eyes widened, his face barely controlling his fury. He had been on a wild goose chase for the past few weeks, imprisoned and shot at, lied to, and had an all-too-short reunion with a young girl he'd begun to think of as a daughter. It was enough to crack his normally calm exterior, so it was very odd that he drew his gun and pointed at Spike for maybe the second time in their entire acquaintance together.

"I'm tired, Spike," Jet said. "I'm tired."

"Jet…" Faye said, rising to her feet. It was rare for Jet to blow up as such and it made Faye nervous. "You're over-reacting. Give the lunkhead a chance to explain."

Spike didn't even blink at the fact his best friend was pointing a very large firearm at his face. In fact, he looked downright bored. His voice was patient as he explained. "What do you think happens when every single high ranking member of a syndicate dies?"

Jet sighed, lowering his gun, but he didn't holster it. "I'm too tired to think that through."

"How do you think Mr. X rose to power? You don't think that he shook some hands and signed a few contracts?" Sarcasm dripped from his tone, but he didn't seem all that amused. Spike blew some smoke to the side. "Since apparently the White Tigers have no one left, someone had to take the reigns."

Faye's hand flew to her mouth. "You've _got_ to be _fucking _kidding me."

Spike gave a mocking salute.

Jet opened his mouth to say something, but Faye beat him to it. She was in fine form: flushed, hands in the air, and shaking like a leaf.

"Great. Just great. He wanted to get _you_ so he can actually hit _three_ birds with one stone. Deal with the Ash issue, find me, oh and yeah, conveniently meet and possibly trap his goddamn equal in a rival syndicate. Great. Just frigging peachy. I'm so glad that you felt the need to disclose this _minor_ piece of information to us at the very last minute!" Faye shook her head in disbelief. "You know what? Fuck this and fuck _you_."

Faye made a move to leave, but Spike grasped her elbow. "Faye-"

Faye wrenched her arm away, furiously. "I'm done. I'm done with this shit. You just waltz in here out of the blue, expecting us to _leap_ at the chance to work with you simply because we're too shocked that you're even _alive_, and then you don't even have the decency to tell us what's been going on with you! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you think about anyone besides yourself?"

"Can you calm the hell down, woman?" Spike shouted, grabbing at Faye again as she started to stomp away. She wriggled at his grasp, but he continued to shout. "See some sense? It doesn't even _matter_. I'm not the leader of the Red Dragons. Not _really_. Not any more!"

Abruptly, he threw open his jacket and lifted his yellow shirt to reveal the ugly scar sliced across this torso with his free hand. "I had to deal with _this _while the rest of the guys were pissing all over themselves not knowing what to do. Before the wounds even properly closed up, and before I could barely _walk_ again, they were _begging_ me to intervene. It was chaos. So, fuck, I don't know. I owed it to Mao. I owed it to Julia."

He dropped his shirt, and smoothed it over, shrugging his shoulders as if just realizing how dramatic he had been.

At the mention of the dead woman's name, Faye suddenly went still. While everyone knew about the woman, saying her name seemed sacrilege around Spike's presence and now he was saying it willingly. Spike dropped Faye's arm and ran a distracted hand through his hair.

"I ran stuff for a couple months. Just… clean up duty mostly. I made a mess of things with my little stunt, not that I really care, but things had to get re-organized. Anyway, since everyone was so insistent that I do this 'leadership thing'-" Spike paused to actually do air quotes. "- that I thought to myself, fine, I can try to do something about what started this entire mess and started cutting off the red eye supply." He shrugged. "But that's it. After that was in place, I quit. Shin's the real leader now. So…" he took a deep breath. "… it doesn't really matter. If X wanted to meet me because he thought he could get a free face-to-face with a rival leader, then he was sadly mistaken. And in the end, it affects neither of you as everyone thinks I'm dead, and the only one that thinks I'm the leader of the Red Dragons is Shin."

Faye frowned, crossing her arms across her chest. "Why didn't you tell this to us sooner?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Was I just talking to myself? Because it doesn't matter and it doesn't affect you."

"How about _we_ decide what affects us!" Faye shrieked. "Don't you get it? What you do _does_ affect us! You just go around thinking that your actions don't have consequences, but they do! You were fucking dead!" Her voice broke and she was gasping as she tried to finish. "I thought you were fucking dead and you came back and then now all _this_ bullshit, and you think it doesn't affect us?"

Jet slowly came behind Faye and rubbed her back in a comforting way, and it was only then that she realized tears were streaking down her cheeks. She had broken down when she promised herself that she'd never let Spike see her cry, never see her weak. He was looking at her oddly now, almost guiltily, and it was too much to bear. Suddenly embarrassed, Faye decided the best course of action was to run.

Run as far away from this crew as possible.

.

.

.

Faye had been flying aimlessly in the Venusian atmosphere and had completely lost track of time. She had been too upset to come back sooner and by the time she had calmed down, the sun was setting and she was hungry and in need of a quick shower. Despite herself, the Red Tail found its way down the New Vegas strip. She flexed her hands against the controls, feeling tempted to land. What would Xander do if she showed up out of the blue?

Her ship's communicator beeped, and truth be told, she was a little surprised that it took that long for Jet to contact her. Usually, he gave her a couple hours to cool down after a tantrum and then would tell her to come home, that dinner was ready… she pressed the connect button.

"Yeah, Jet?"

But the face on the other line was not bald, nor old. Faye jerked the Red Tail in surprise as she stared at the handsome visage of her old love.

"You were expecting a message from your partner?" Xander said.

"Uh, nevermind. What do you want?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing. My men told me a suspicious craft was hovering around the compound."

"Oh," Faye said. Way to sound spaced out, Valentine. She sighed. "I was just wandering."

She knew that she sounded strange, but fi he did find it weird, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he said softly, "Land. Have dinner with me."

Strangely, the first thought that flew to Faye's mind was that she was only in a t-shirt and boxer shorts, not rejecting the offer outright. "I don't know, Xan…"

"No more pretences. Let's talk over dinner," Xander insisted. Faye was trying to think of a million and one different reasons to turn him down. He'd been lying all this time. He was a syndicate crime lord. His men shot at her and her friends. He'd dumped her when she was eighteen years old! She was in love with someone else!

Actually, that last thought reminded her exactly why she had been wandering aimlessly at this godforsaken planet. Impulsively, she said, "Fine. But… I'm not exactly dressed for it."

Xander flashed her a brilliant smile through the communicator, and dammit, he was still as handsome as when they were both teenagers. "Not a problem."

"Just dinner. I'm not going to have sex with you," Faye added.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, hm?" Xander said, teasingly. "Land out back. We have parking there. See you soon, doll."

Not two seconds later, the communicator rang again. This time, it _was _Jet. "Faye-"

"Don't wait up, _dad_," Faye snapped. She could swear she could make Spike's outline just behind Jet's left shoulder. Knowing this, she added very clearly: "I won't be back until morning."

.

.

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A/N: Yeah, I'm back. Sort of. Kind of. I don't know?


End file.
